Eeeeeewie! Last night got real weird real quick. Yesterday was Fat Tuesday. Fat Tuesday is my new favorite night of the week during which I go over to a friend’s house and watch TV shows about fat people. Mike and Molly on CBS (the best worst show on TV!) immediately followed by the Biggest Loser. I love The Biggest Loser, btw. It’s all omg you are SO big followed by fuck yeah, lose that weight!
Anywhoos, after that LOL Fest I agreed to go out for one (1) drink and one (1) drink only to catch a wee bit o karaoke at Sticky Rice. I was so proud of myself when I actually adhered to the plan at hand and made it home before my 12 o’clock curfew! Upon arriving at my apartment I do not see a unicorn or a hot boy or a delicious Channello’s cheese sticks with a trillion extra ranches, but a girl passed out cold. I’m all, “Oh shit. I really don’t want to have to deal with this crap”, but then thought I can’t go all Kitty Genovese on this girl’s ass. (Google that if you don’t know who I’m talking about, retards.)
I assumed she had gone outside to smoke, gotten locked out and passed out. Wrong. Once she came to and she was all, “Where am I?” and I’m all, “In front of my apartment door?” She’s all, “I’m cold.” So I’m all, “Ok. Shit. Come in.” It becomes pretty apparent that she was for sure 100% roofied like a mother fucker at a bar on Robinson that I won’t name but rhymes with Fuddy’s and somehow ended up at my place. I know drunk and this shit was not that. She says she met some guy off the internet and her boyfriend (!?!) will be pissed if he finds out. I realize shit’s getting real real quick so I call for backup. I text my friend the following message: “I think there’s a drug dealer in my apt! Help!” and it worked like a charm! He was there in no time. Yay!
The next logical step is figuring out how to get this girl the hell out of my place so I can catch some Zzz’s. Several failed phone calls later it’s clear she’s not getting a ride from anyone. She says she has a friend who will let her crash her crib near Bryan park so in the car to drop off Roofie Town we go. Once we’re on the highway she realizes that no, it’s Byrd park, not Bryan park and I can’t blame her for the mistake. I’ve lived in RVA all my life and use Byrd and Bryan park interchangeably. We hop off the highway, find her friend’s house and wham, bam, thank ya ma’am my good deed of 2010 is presto donezo!
Now on to the important part: my karmic repayment. I would like the following things to happen: a new job, a raise, get laid and pay off my credit card. THANKS BUNCHES! Love ya!