Me, Myself and Drunk
(last seen 00:49)
I am never more predictable than when I am drunk.
I know humans like routines, but f*ck me am I a routine drunk. Or more precisely I have a drunken routine. The times in which I get drunk vary in situation and context but the actions once drunk are pretty similar.
I have noticed this is my general pattern…
- Talk to strangers, anyone and everyone will do – usually I refer to them as ‘this guy’ and they are probably like – who the hell is ‘this guy’. Pipe down lady you are drunk
- 100% I am on a tube reading old messages from someone I used to have sex with. If I am lucky I just read them, if I am not for shit sure I have texted them. Yes, I know (face palm emoji). I’ve probably Instagram stalked them too for a while and hopefully that’s my fill. If not hello new what’s app in their inbox.
- Come up with ‘great’ writing ideas. Like what is happening now. I am convinced this is genius. But we all know it’s going to miss the mark entirely when I reread it at 10am tomorrow. More often than not the story idea just appears on a note on my phone and will be something cryptic like – argument with a mug who says think happy thoughts (that one is a keeper though, don’t worry I am already writing it), crows and the middle class, A graveyard of germs on my hands – you know all those genius ideas that no one else has ever had… Because they just aren’t ideas
- Talk about my vagina, or cervix, or masturbation. One of the three at some point without fail will pop up. I am usually sat at a table talking about sex or my vagina. In usual life my vagina gets very little air time so I am guessing drunk me thinks this is her time to shine. I am pretty sure everyone else is just like “why does Lucie talk about her vagina so much??” Especially the people on the table next to me that don’t want to know about my vagina’s strict door policy.
- I drink all of the water ever – because I might be drunk but I am not stupid. I don’t want a hangover or more wrinkles than I need. Let’s detox this shit out of this thing.
- I send voice messages. Usually to people I am either having sex with or want to have sex with and when none of those exist then I will send to my friends. Because clearly I have a lot to say and who can be f*cked to type when they are drunk. Except for me right now who has just written 421 words.
- I become arrogant as f*ck – just watch me shine bitch.
You get the picture. The usually deeply flawed Lucie who is riddled with self esteem issues hangs out on the periphery whilst my ego and me step up to the plate to tell the world just how marvellous I am.
As you can imagine I am a charming drunk. To be honest I think I am pretty lucky I still have friends after all this and I don’t know how or when I fixed these rituals but they don’t seem to change. Same old drunk Lucie shows up chugging water and leaving voice messages about her vagina.
In short drunk me is a niche offering.
But maybe that’s ok. Because in hindsight it could be worse. I could decide to write and publish entire articles when drink… oh wait a minute.