Even before her eyes opened she could feel the god awful throbbing in her head. It was like someone in a far off native land was beating out the signal on a drum, that they'd indeed, without a doubt, clearly been the victor in the body versus booze dance that took place the previous night. Actually, as she lay there in the silence, she concluded that not only was her head pounding, so was the soft little spot just behind her left ear, and strangely enough, so was her left knee.
She cracked one eye open just enough to establish that it was no longer night time. The sun was crashing through the open curtains like a devilish intruder intent on making her as uncomfortable as possible. It always pissed her off when she forgot to close the curtains at night, and she could feel that pissyness rise in her throat like hot bile. When she tilted her head in a lame attempt to see the clock on the night stand, she felt that bloody sun beam attack her singular open eye like a laser.
"Shit!" she yelp out like a wounded dog.
She flopped back down on the bed and immediately closed the pierced eye in hopes the damage would only be temporary. She lay there like a corpse, listening to her own breath, her own heartbeat. She'd once written about a corpse and now she felt like one only worse, because she knew she wasn't dead. Or at least she assumed she wasn't due to the fact that she could still feel the pain coursing through nearly every part of her body. Her head was definitely not in a good place, and now, neither was her eyeball.
"Oh my God! What have I done to myself?" she said out loud, her pithy little voice filling the empty space surrounding her. This is when it pays off to have someone with you, like a husband, or a boyfriend she thought to herself. Someone who could fill you in with all the lurid details of your compulsive debauchery.
The phone beside the bed began to prattle, over and over, like one of those bloody church bells summoning it's patrons to service on a Sunday morning. It seemed unusually loud in her delicate state so she raised her hands up and clasped them against her ears. When that didn't work, she grabbed the extra pillow lying next to her and pulled it over her face, hoping at best, it would dull the ringing until her machine picked up.
"Afternoon sunshine. Just a welfare check. You were pretty lit last night, and that whole chair to floor trick, well, that was the icing on the cake. Pretty spectacular if you ask me. You got everybody's attention, that's for sure. As a matter of fact, that old guy you were chatting up was pretty impressed. Either that or he was still under the influence of his earlier Viagra intake. And hey, before you go off on me, he said it, not me!"
Stef pushed the pillow off her face, groaned, then reached for the phone. She had to turn one more inch to make the reach, which, as it turned out was just one inch too far. She clasped the receiver in her hand at the same time she tumbled off the bed and onto the hard floor below.
"Jesus Christ," she said as she lay there even further stunned. Worse yet, now her right ear hurt from meeting with the side of the bed. She could still here Ginger rattling on about something. Somehow she managed to find the button on the receiver and pushed it with great effort.
"What? And why are you calling so early? And why are you yelling? And what bloody chair trick did I manage to pull off? And what about Viagra?"
"Well hello darling, good afternoon to you to."
"What do you mean afternoon?"
She forced herself to sit up so she could see the clock. Now she was too far from the clock and searched for her glasses on the nightstand. She put them on and even then she still had to squint to see the bloody thing.
"Oh My God," she said when she realized it was nearly two o'clock in the afternoon.
"I figured you'd still be sleeping. That's why I waited till now to call. Aren't you just the lady of leisure these days?"
"You know what..." she couldn't even find the words to finish her thought.
"Hey, don't blame me, you worked pretty hard for this yesterday, I was just there as the designated driver, remember!"
"Oh shut up Miss Goody Two Shoes," she said. Actually, she couldn't remember anything. Other than driving to the bar, the rest of the night was a big mystery, a big blur, and probably a big mistake. "I'm alive and kicking, okay? Well, maybe not kicking quite yet, but I will be right after my date with the coffee maker and some asprin. I'll call you back in a bit for all the horrid details okay?"
"Okay sleeping beauty," Ginger said. "Make sure you have several cups before you call me okay?" Ginger said. "Oh, and you might want to put some Neosporin on that gash you got."
"Right!" Stef said.
She hung up the phone then leaned back against the bed.
The first order of business was to forage through the night stand drawer to find the asprin bottle. She popped two pills into her mouth and took them dry. Throwing her head back to make them go down wasn't exactly a smart move. The throbbing in her head was excruciating now. She decided to sit there until it subsided. She looked down at her leg and that's when she noticed the gash on her knee. She hiked her nightie up to explore the damage. Upon closer inspection, she knew this one would fill in the gap between the other two scars she'd acquired during her more vigorous youth. The whole area of her knee cap looked swollen, and she was sure there'd be a nasty bruise there by the end of the day.
Feeling slightly more stablized, she turned so she could use the bed for leverage. The remanants of the previous nights alcohol were obviously still coursing through her veins because she felt pretty damned shakey.
Once in the kitchen she set about making herself some very strong espresso. She could feel the rumblings in her stomach, a reminder that she'd not eaten since early yesterday, so she took the bread out of the cupboard. Toast and coffee should do the trick, bring her back to life. As she moved towards the fridge she noticed something scribbled on her calendar, something that was not in her own handwriting.
7:45-meet Ginger and Beth for dinner if you can manage it.
Well, at least that cleared up one little detail about last night. Ginger had taken her designated driver status seriously, and had indeed brought her home, and left her this little note as proof.
She looked down at the nightie, then back at the note. She realized that her dear friend had not only driven her home, she'd also undressed her, put her pajamas on, then put her to bed just as any good mother would do if they'd kept their two-year-old out to late. She knew Ginger was going to demand payback at sometime. She also knew that Ginger would not let her live this down for quite some time.
As she waited for the coffee to finish brewing, she went to the front door to get the paper. She swung the front door open and was shocked when she saw the mailman standing there, his arm mid way to her mailbox. Apparently he was as startled by her as she was by him because he almost dropped the mail. She knew she looked like crap and ran her fingers over her hair in an attempt to look a little more presentable.
"Afternoon," she said casually.
"Afternoon," he said still clenching the mail in his hands. "Ah, do you want me to put this in the box, or...do you just want to take it?"
She swung the screen door open.
"I'll take it," she said.
"Hope you feel better later," he said as he took the stairs two at a time back towards the street.
What the hell did that mean, hope you feel better? She stooped over to get the paper and when she stood back up she caught a glimpse of herself in the gazing ball right next to the door.
You poor bastard, she thought to herself. She went back inside, poured herself a cup of coffee, then hit the shower.
An hour later, she finally had the mental capacity to call Ginger back.
"So, tell me everything," she said to her pal.
"There's so much. I just don't know where to start."
"Just tell me whether or not the police are going to show up at my front door," she said, not really wanting to know every lurid detail.
"Simple answer...no!" Ginger said chuckling on the other end of the phone. "On the other hand I think you may have a date later this week providing your pal from last night can get a refill on his Viagra prescription."
"Oh, very funny. Funny, funny, funny, beatch," Stef said with as much sarcasm as she could muster.
"What's up with you anyway?" Ginger prompted.
"What do you mean?"
"Well, you don't normally go out on a bender unless something horrible is going on. So what's up?"
Stef felt a wave of relief wash over her because her secret was still her secret. Apparently, the alcohol had inhibited her memory of what had transpired yesterday at the doctor's. She had somehow blocked her bad news out. She had literally just gone out and had a good time with her friend.
"Nothing's up, I was just having one of 'those' days," she responded.
"I see." Ginger knew there was more to it than that but decided not to press the issue. "So, are we going to see you tonight?"
"Yeah, I think you are. Only this time I'll manage to keep myself in control." Stef said. "But just in case, pick me up."
"Okay, I'll see you later."
She cracked one eye open just enough to establish that it was no longer night time. The sun was crashing through the open curtains like a devilish intruder intent on making her as uncomfortable as possible. It always pissed her off when she forgot to close the curtains at night, and she could feel that pissyness rise in her throat like hot bile. When she tilted her head in a lame attempt to see the clock on the night stand, she felt that bloody sun beam attack her singular open eye like a laser.
"Shit!" she yelp out like a wounded dog.
She flopped back down on the bed and immediately closed the pierced eye in hopes the damage would only be temporary. She lay there like a corpse, listening to her own breath, her own heartbeat. She'd once written about a corpse and now she felt like one only worse, because she knew she wasn't dead. Or at least she assumed she wasn't due to the fact that she could still feel the pain coursing through nearly every part of her body. Her head was definitely not in a good place, and now, neither was her eyeball.
"Oh my God! What have I done to myself?" she said out loud, her pithy little voice filling the empty space surrounding her. This is when it pays off to have someone with you, like a husband, or a boyfriend she thought to herself. Someone who could fill you in with all the lurid details of your compulsive debauchery.
The phone beside the bed began to prattle, over and over, like one of those bloody church bells summoning it's patrons to service on a Sunday morning. It seemed unusually loud in her delicate state so she raised her hands up and clasped them against her ears. When that didn't work, she grabbed the extra pillow lying next to her and pulled it over her face, hoping at best, it would dull the ringing until her machine picked up.
"Afternoon sunshine. Just a welfare check. You were pretty lit last night, and that whole chair to floor trick, well, that was the icing on the cake. Pretty spectacular if you ask me. You got everybody's attention, that's for sure. As a matter of fact, that old guy you were chatting up was pretty impressed. Either that or he was still under the influence of his earlier Viagra intake. And hey, before you go off on me, he said it, not me!"
Stef pushed the pillow off her face, groaned, then reached for the phone. She had to turn one more inch to make the reach, which, as it turned out was just one inch too far. She clasped the receiver in her hand at the same time she tumbled off the bed and onto the hard floor below.
"Jesus Christ," she said as she lay there even further stunned. Worse yet, now her right ear hurt from meeting with the side of the bed. She could still here Ginger rattling on about something. Somehow she managed to find the button on the receiver and pushed it with great effort.
"What? And why are you calling so early? And why are you yelling? And what bloody chair trick did I manage to pull off? And what about Viagra?"
"Well hello darling, good afternoon to you to."
"What do you mean afternoon?"
She forced herself to sit up so she could see the clock. Now she was too far from the clock and searched for her glasses on the nightstand. She put them on and even then she still had to squint to see the bloody thing.
"Oh My God," she said when she realized it was nearly two o'clock in the afternoon.
"I figured you'd still be sleeping. That's why I waited till now to call. Aren't you just the lady of leisure these days?"
"You know what..." she couldn't even find the words to finish her thought.
"Hey, don't blame me, you worked pretty hard for this yesterday, I was just there as the designated driver, remember!"
"Oh shut up Miss Goody Two Shoes," she said. Actually, she couldn't remember anything. Other than driving to the bar, the rest of the night was a big mystery, a big blur, and probably a big mistake. "I'm alive and kicking, okay? Well, maybe not kicking quite yet, but I will be right after my date with the coffee maker and some asprin. I'll call you back in a bit for all the horrid details okay?"
"Okay sleeping beauty," Ginger said. "Make sure you have several cups before you call me okay?" Ginger said. "Oh, and you might want to put some Neosporin on that gash you got."
"Right!" Stef said.
She hung up the phone then leaned back against the bed.
The first order of business was to forage through the night stand drawer to find the asprin bottle. She popped two pills into her mouth and took them dry. Throwing her head back to make them go down wasn't exactly a smart move. The throbbing in her head was excruciating now. She decided to sit there until it subsided. She looked down at her leg and that's when she noticed the gash on her knee. She hiked her nightie up to explore the damage. Upon closer inspection, she knew this one would fill in the gap between the other two scars she'd acquired during her more vigorous youth. The whole area of her knee cap looked swollen, and she was sure there'd be a nasty bruise there by the end of the day.
Feeling slightly more stablized, she turned so she could use the bed for leverage. The remanants of the previous nights alcohol were obviously still coursing through her veins because she felt pretty damned shakey.
Once in the kitchen she set about making herself some very strong espresso. She could feel the rumblings in her stomach, a reminder that she'd not eaten since early yesterday, so she took the bread out of the cupboard. Toast and coffee should do the trick, bring her back to life. As she moved towards the fridge she noticed something scribbled on her calendar, something that was not in her own handwriting.
7:45-meet Ginger and Beth for dinner if you can manage it.
Well, at least that cleared up one little detail about last night. Ginger had taken her designated driver status seriously, and had indeed brought her home, and left her this little note as proof.
She looked down at the nightie, then back at the note. She realized that her dear friend had not only driven her home, she'd also undressed her, put her pajamas on, then put her to bed just as any good mother would do if they'd kept their two-year-old out to late. She knew Ginger was going to demand payback at sometime. She also knew that Ginger would not let her live this down for quite some time.
As she waited for the coffee to finish brewing, she went to the front door to get the paper. She swung the front door open and was shocked when she saw the mailman standing there, his arm mid way to her mailbox. Apparently he was as startled by her as she was by him because he almost dropped the mail. She knew she looked like crap and ran her fingers over her hair in an attempt to look a little more presentable.
"Afternoon," she said casually.
"Afternoon," he said still clenching the mail in his hands. "Ah, do you want me to put this in the box, or...do you just want to take it?"
She swung the screen door open.
"I'll take it," she said.
"Hope you feel better later," he said as he took the stairs two at a time back towards the street.
What the hell did that mean, hope you feel better? She stooped over to get the paper and when she stood back up she caught a glimpse of herself in the gazing ball right next to the door.
You poor bastard, she thought to herself. She went back inside, poured herself a cup of coffee, then hit the shower.
An hour later, she finally had the mental capacity to call Ginger back.
"So, tell me everything," she said to her pal.
"There's so much. I just don't know where to start."
"Just tell me whether or not the police are going to show up at my front door," she said, not really wanting to know every lurid detail.
"Simple answer...no!" Ginger said chuckling on the other end of the phone. "On the other hand I think you may have a date later this week providing your pal from last night can get a refill on his Viagra prescription."
"Oh, very funny. Funny, funny, funny, beatch," Stef said with as much sarcasm as she could muster.
"What's up with you anyway?" Ginger prompted.
"What do you mean?"
"Well, you don't normally go out on a bender unless something horrible is going on. So what's up?"
Stef felt a wave of relief wash over her because her secret was still her secret. Apparently, the alcohol had inhibited her memory of what had transpired yesterday at the doctor's. She had somehow blocked her bad news out. She had literally just gone out and had a good time with her friend.
"Nothing's up, I was just having one of 'those' days," she responded.
"I see." Ginger knew there was more to it than that but decided not to press the issue. "So, are we going to see you tonight?"
"Yeah, I think you are. Only this time I'll manage to keep myself in control." Stef said. "But just in case, pick me up."
"Okay, I'll see you later."
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