Dry heave… Vomit… Dry heave… Vomit.
I might have unintentionally cracked three ribs and given myself an appendectomy.
This was the moment where I'd promise myself I would never drink again, despite the fact that I'd be ready to hit the bottle once I was fully healed.
Yes, I was having one of those hangovers.
"I feel so bad for you right now. I'm just thankful that I don't feel as shitty as you. Holler if you need anything." I heard Amy step away from the bathroom door and head down the hallway.
After I'd proceeded to vomit like a bulimic girl who'd just binged herself through a pack of Oreos and several McDonald's Quarter Pounders, I hopped into the shower to wash off last night's alcohol and remnants of today's puking marathon.
The warm water felt soothing on my now achy muscles, and I took my time washing my hair. I could only imagine the shenanigans I'd gotten myself into last night. If I was this hung over and couldn't recall how I'd gotten home, things probably had been out of control. I jumped out of the shower, brushed my teeth, dried my hair a little, and put on my favorite comfy robe before heading back into my bedroom.
"Ahhhhhh! What the fuck!" I screamed as I realized there was a sleeping man in my bed.
I was shocked my shrill yell hadn't startled him awake. I wouldn't have been surprised if I'd woken up the entire apartment complex. Amy came running in with a look of terror on her face and then abruptly stopped when she realized what my dramatics were about. We were both standing at the foot of my bed, staring at the still sleeping guy, with puzzled looks on our faces.
Amy looked over at me with a goofy grin before putting her hand over her mouth in attempt to hide her laughter. I elbowed her in the stomach in hopes that I could shut her up and then proceeded to grab her by the wrist and quickly drag her out of my bedroom. We headed into the kitchen and did what any girl would do in this situation—tried to recount last night's events.
"How in the hell did you not see this guy when you woke up?" Amy was grinning, her perfectly white teeth practically shining back at me.
"Well, let's see. I woke up with a pounding fucking headache and then had to make a mad dash to the bathroom, where I proceeded to vomit for like an hour. I'm pretty sure you should have called a priest. I could have used an exorcism in there!"
Amy started to laugh a little and shook her head at the nonsensicality of this scenario.
"Okay. Let me get this straight. You didn't happen to notice that a man, who looks to be about six foot and a muscular two hundred pounds, was lying in your bed? Seriously, Ellen? Are you that clueless?"
"First of all, who the hell are you? Do you secretly write height and weight statistics for the NFL? Secondly, I was too focused on how god damn awful I felt! My head was pounding and I could barely open my eyes! I was probably still kind of drunk when I woke up!" I said a little too loudly.
Amy motioned for me to quiet down, and we both glanced down the hall in hopes that Mystery Guy hadn't woken up and overheard our conversation. The entire apartment was uncannily quiet, and we assumed that my unexpected guest was still sound asleep in my bed.
I abruptly sat down at the kitchen table and put my head in my hands, huffing out a deep breath of frustration. My mortification was at record-breaking levels.
How in the hell do I find myself in these situations?
"I've got to get my act together. This one-night stand shit is starting to get out of control," I said in the whiniest voice possible with my head still buried in my hands.
"Elle, it's fine. We've all been there before. Okay, let's look on the positive side. At least he's attractive and not covered in back hair like that one guy from—"
I quickly interrupted Amy and gave her a serious look. "Enough! Now is not the time for a rehashing of my past hookups. I just need you to help me get this guy out of here so I can still maintain a tiny bit of my already scant amount of dignity."
She glanced at the clock and sat down next to me at the kitchen table. "All right, well in my opinion this guy has already overstayed his welcome. It's almost ten, and in proper one-night stand etiquette, his ass should have been out the door over an hour ago."
"Proper one-night stand etiquette? Do you realize how absurd you sound right now?"
"Ellen, there are some unwritten but very well-known one-night stand rules, and having your ass out the door before ten in the morning is definitely one of them!" Amy threw her arms in the air, indicating she was irritated with Mystery Guy for not following the so-called one-night stand book of etiquette.
I rolled my eyes skyward. "Whatever. I'm not discussing this with you right now. Let's just get this idiot out of here. We need to be really loud so we wake him up."