Last night was a blast! Minus one small detail.. I drunk called Sam. I find it really funny that when you’re drunk, you can convince yourself of almost anything that your sober self will hate you for. Sober me is not happy with drunk me. Sober me made me sit in the corner and write page after page of “I’m an idiot” as punishment for being an absolute idiot.
The night started out great, we had burgers and cocktails at this funky diner/ restaurant. Caught up on what’s been happening in our lives, talked shit, took some pictures and funny videos because I’m pretty sure I was already pissed after a couple of wines and jugs of cocktails. I did text Sam at that point asking if he was busy later, he said he was going out to a certain suburb and I replied with “Ah too bad” because I really wasn’t going to chase after him when I was somewhere else already.
Bring on bar number one! It was busy with people eating dinner still so we headed upstairs to a swankier spot where we drank wine on a balcony, enjoying the view and talking about our hopes and dreams. Then we went to a hidden gin bar, which I had been told was hard to find but it really wasn’t. Walking down into the dark, opium den, 007 style bar, we were escorted to a table where it was difficult to even read the menu, but the place was pretty damn cool and the drinks were absolutely mouth watering so I’ll forgive them for the blindness. I had a Vesper because of the 007 vibe I was getting how could I not! I started talking about Sam and how I should just be taking whatever we’re doing as what it really is, just sex. Sure I enjoy his company, maybe too much, but in the gin bar talking about the situation I came to the realisation that it most likely wasn’t going to turn into anything more than what it is because I’m too chicken to being it up for one thing, and because he’s never said anything even hinting at wanting a relationship. So drunk me thought fuck it, I’ll text him again! At least I can get a booty call out of this and maybe one day the man that I will end up in a relationship with will come along and I will just know when it happens, I won’t be wondering what we’re doing because it will already be obvious. So I texted “Hey where u at!?” Obviously no reply, that’s a pretty standard booty call text, I guess he didn’t want to be a booty call.
We went back to the first bar that was originally busy, got a shot and a couple (more than a couple) drinks as well as some finger food. Had a man help me choose a lovely whisky which I probably didn’t appreciate enough since I was drunk. A waiter tried hitting on us but I’m pretty oblivious to men flirting with me unless they outright say I’m sexy or something along those lines, plus; drunk. We all know I’m not smart when I’m drunk!
My friend said she was getting tired so it’s time for her to leave. And because it was only midnight and I really wanted this booty call to happen since I’ve never booty called anyone and I was trying to treat my Sam situation as what it is, I called him. Yes I’m cringing too. I can’t remember the exact conversation (funny that) but it went along the lines of me saying I’m drunk and letting him know I was willing to go to him, him saying he’s fucked and staying at a mates and I could crash there, me saying I’m up for whatever I just don’t want my night to end yet, him saying it might be weird if I crashed at his mates maybe we could catch up tomorrow, I’m busy tomorrow whatever maybe another day have a good night.
Drunk me is not allowed to have a phone anymore. Drunk me is in serious trouble with my morals, character and cerebral cortex (which is where thought and reasoning happen!). I would not be surprised if Sam never texted me again. I’m basically bummed out about the whole situation. I was originally going to just have a girls night and not contact Sam at all. What an idiot huh!?!