After an n number glasses of wine, fingers fumble through the lock code of a phone, and the next thing I know, I’ve already hit send.
Seeing that little bar on the top rapidly fill up to notify me that the message I drunkenly typed is already reaching your phone at the moment.
I sober up a little bit, but my alcohol induced brain pushes me to rectify the already-bad situation of the drunk text.
The next thing I know is that your digits are already on my screen and it’s already dialing.
And I try pressing End but you’ve already answered the call.
I’m a lot fuzzy about the details but one thing’s for sure, it was 2 in the morning, and I just said “Good night.”
What a spaz. I’ve just made an already-bad situation worse.
I guess I just fell into a coma of sleep, because the next thing I know is that it’s already the morning-after. And my morning-after face is so on. Puffy and still-blushy cheeks, and swollen but not-as-much-as-last-night’s swollen lips.
And then I remembered what happened a few hours before waking up sober.
And the Sober Me’s tsk tsk-ing me again.
So I decided to check my phone and survey the damage if that one drunk text is for sure the only one, but instead of finding more evidence of my spazzed-up mind, I just find a message, from you, bidding me good night, reminding me to have coffee once I get up. And that you’re still laughing at me, teasing me, but in a good way. And I reply to you a good morning.
I feel like I’ve just averted a disaster, but I think it was more of your gentlemanliness than my rectifying powers.
But Sober Me’s still tsk tsk-ing me.