It's a pretty amazing thing when you're hurting more from sheer embarrassment than the actual hangover.
Remember how I didn't close out my tab?
Well, I got a text from Scar letting me know that he grabbed my ID for me. What a kind and thoughtful boyfriend. It turns out, the club is closed on Sundays... good thing I slipped him my digits that first night, otherwise I'd have driven out of Small Town without my license.
note: Small Town is 3 hours south of Hometown. Hometown is 12 hours from The City.
We agreed to meet in the Jack-in-the-Box parking lot on my way out of town. This resulted in a very different kind of walk of shame. Should I, or should I not have, presented a written apology for my tendency to become a Hot Mess while under the influence of any beverage, including water?
sorry that I'm not sorry.
It also occurred to me that he had plenty of time to memorize my address and vitals. Now it's only a matter of time before I go missing...
Remember those sister twins?
Well it turns out, they aren't twins. They are liars.
Remember the tire blow out?
Well in this one-horse-town, all of the tire shops are closed on Sundays. Thank-you Sears Auto, I didn't know you still existed anymore. Without your help I may have been trapped in Small Town forever.
Remember the dead beta fish?
Well it rose from the dead.
now that was some freaky sh--.
