It was a bachelorette party night and it goes without saying that I was dying the next morning… you’ve kind of had a taste of how I like to do my bachelorette parties. I may or may not have ended up dropping it low with the bride on a bar top in my 6″ stilettos.
Story for another day (maybe). The real story is my morning.
I woke up on the floor of The Hilton in the dress I went out in, inbetween the two queen size beds occupied by the bride and her three friends with a half eaten dinner roll in my blanket. Classy. It was 745a and I needed to get home so I could log-on and work. (Yes, I worked the next day. Yes, it was from home) I stumbled around the hotel room trying not to wake the girls that somehow managed to make it in a bed… IN THEIR PAJAMAS. I did a quick run through to pickup my heels, my purse, my phone charger… anything else? Nope. Made one final check in the bathroom and saw makeup remover out. Damn, they even took their makeup off before they got in bed?! I bet they even remembered to brush their teeth too. Those bitches.
I walked out of the hotel room in my flip flops, dishevled hair, made up face, and my little black dress that is entirely too tight and too short and that I would not dream of wearing to any occasion outside a bachelorette party. I walked all the way down to the end of the hotel hallway and realized when there was no elevator that I had gone the wrong direction. Now I’m generally the bitch that will take the stairs rather than the elevator/escalator and judge those that don’t.. but this morning however was not the time to be walking down from the 8th floor. At that point in time it was more important for me to make it out of there concussion free rather than burn 82 calories. Judge me. I turned around, walked past the room and made it to the elevator. We’re going to go ahead and call that a win.
When I got in the glass elevator I had a view of the continental breakfast being served in the hotel lobby. AWESOME. It was huuuuuge and fancy, God bless The Hilton. All I wanted was some eggs, some biscuits, some bacon… something greasy to put in my stomach. I rested my forehead against the glass and watched as the pavilion got closer and closer. **The food is looking better and better. This glass feels so good on my face. Can they see up my skirt from down there? Pleasedontbeabletoseeupmyskirt. Pleasedontbeabletoseeupmyskirt**
I unloaded myself from the elevator and walked past formal tables that were nicely set and groups of people sitting at them. People were staring… I could not have been more out of place amongst the tables and tables of real adults that looked like they were all on their way to some sort of important douchebag meeting. I kid you not, every table I passed by got silent and heads turned as I walked by. I literally muttered “Bachelorette party” as I waved off four men with their mouths gaping open that were sitting at one of these fancy tables. **What is it with this place… I know I have a nice ass but seriously?? Have people never seen a bachelorette walk of shame before? It’s a hotel for goodness sakes. Buffet! SCORE!**
I grabbed a plate and did a quick review of my options. **Now where are those biscuits….?* My thoughts and soon to be breakfast were interrupted when a hotel employee approached me and very politely informed me that this breakfast was a private party. Yup, a conference being held for Microsoft executives.
I don’t remember how exactly this hotel worker took the plate from my hands, but he did. My response? I stared at his face. When I came to, I apologized profusely as he escorted me out of the breakfast area and apologized to me for the confusion. I assured him it was totally fine and said “Really, it’s no big deal… Imma get one of those bacon egg biscuit things from the McDonald’s drive through.” Everyone together now: CLASSY.
I got in my car to drive home and pulled out my phone to confirm my route home (read: confirm there was a McDonalds on my route home). While I had my phone out, I went to text one of my buddies and saw my text list. To my surprise (what’s a word that means MORE than surprised? Shock.) To my shock, my entire text list was all phone numbers…. no contact names.
This is an important sidenote – I never save phone numbers of people I know that I’m not going to actually talk to on the phone. The generic category of these numbers are random guys, or bridesmaids that want to ‘keep in touch’. I do this for three reasons 1: I hate having a messy contact list 2: It’s always awkward when someone sees first names with trigger words… Brian Realtor, Joel Mattress, Billy Cornwalls… you get the idea 3: It’s one more thing I can do to prevent myself from calling/texting/emailing in a drunken state (Sorry Marine Jeff) OR just second guess myself before sending unnecessary texts to guys I should not be talking to… it’s generally a pretty fool proof system!
That said, when I looked at my text list and saw all phone numbers, I realized that for the first time ever I had outsmarted my own system and gone thru texting just about every number in my text history that wasn’t saved. Great. All the texts were different variations of “Who is this?” (Who is thus? Who us this? Whos is thus? you get the idea..) Wtf, self? I decided to focus on the problem at hand (NEEEEED FOOOOOD) and deal with the text issue later.
I pulled into the McDonald’s drive thru around 815a. GLORRRRRYLAND!!! I ordered my bacon egg cheese biscuit with a side of those amazing hashbrowns and pulled forward to the first window to pay. This is when I found out I had left my wallet in the hotel room. (uugggghhh – probably was hidden behind the damn makeup remover) I considered pleading with the drive thru worker about my night/morning in hopes of possibly getting a freebie, but he seemed uninterested/wanting a free bacon-egg-cheese biscuit messup for himself.
I drove past the second window completely defeated, head down… it’s one thing to be denied by [my [non]-fellow] Microsoft executives.. it is quite another to follow up the rejection with the McDonald’s drive thru employee. I wasn’t even mad. I didn’t even fight it. I went home, put on sweats, curled up on the sofa, drank a Diet Coke with lemon (newfound best hangover cure ever), logged on to my work computer, and struuuuuuuuuuuggled working the rest of the day while holding a number of awkward text conversations.
I’ve gotta give it to myself though… I know how to do bachelorette parties 🙂 🙂 🙂