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What would you do for a Klondike Bar?
Or in this case – What would you do to drunkenly make out with a hottie with a body??
National Tequila Day (NTD) was just a fortnight ago, July 24th to be exact. Thus, of course I celebrated this holiday. And of course, I celebrated like a true tequilita. (Definition- Adj. One who heavily consumes Tequila. Usually female. Note the “-ita”)
I was at my friend’s house who lived a short bike ride away to celebrate. Her dad made us quesadillas and the tequila sunsets were flowing like an opened fire-hydrant. Not a fuck in the world was given about that fact I had to ride my bike home, or that I had to be up at 8am to work. As time progressed we naturally began to stray away from the mixed tequila drinks and moved onto shots. Two shots deep my memory begins to haze.
Below is what I can remember.
Huh, this kid is pretty cute.
Is he telling me to climb a fence?
Am I climbing a fence right now?
God, this boy is so hot!
My hand hurts… Whatever, I’m fine.
Time to make out with this sexy man/boy
**BAM** – All of a sudden I am in my friend’s kitchen. Her dad – also drunk – is trying to tend to my hand. WTF, why am I crying? I’m fine!
Me: “Excuse me friend’s dad, what are you doing? I am fine. Stop touching me!”
Friends Dad: “You are not fine!! Hold still so I can stop the bleeding!”
Me: “HOLY FUCK! I’M BLEEDING?? FUCK FUCK, I’M WEARING MY SISTERS WHITE SHORTS. DON’T GET ANY BLOOD ON THEM!”
Friends Dad: “Too late for that!! I’m putting you in a cab. NO way you are driving your bike home with your hand like that!”
And that is all I remember from that night ladies and gentlemen.
July 25th, 2012 (the next morning) – I woke at 7:30am to a text message from the “sexy man/boy” I may or may not have made out with the night prior.
After being asked if I was okay, my first reaction was.. Um, yeah? Why would I not be okay? Then the pain hit me. I looked down at my hand and saw that beautiful masterpiece you can view in the text above. Clearly, I was not fine. I called out of work, drove myself to the hospital where I had to explain to 3 different doctors that it was NTD and I climbed a fence which as you probably have noticed, sliced my hand open.
Ten stitches and a cast later, I was discharged from the hospital. Fast forward a week, I was informed I suffered nerve damage in my pinky and will probably never get feeling back in it. Was all of this worth it just to make out with a hot kid one night? It would have been except for the fact I haven’t talked to the sexy man/boy since the text message above. Definitely a story to tell the grand kids.