The Morning After

The Morning After

The alarm went off at 7am. It was a Saturday morning, but she had forgotten to turn off her alarm for the weekend. After a couple minutes, the constant BUZZ…BUZZ…BUZZ woke her from her sleep

She moaned loudly as she rolled over and slapped the snooze button. She put her hand on her forehead and rubbed her temples with her thumb and forefinger. Her head felt like it had been hit with a hammer a few dozen times. She winced as she slowly opened one eye to see a small ray of sunlight sneaking through the curtains and onto her bed. She briefly thought about going back to sleep, but she was never one to sleep in late and waste the day.

She lay on her back with one hand over her face as she ran her tongue over her teeth. She smacked her dry, nasty tasting mouth and wondered why she felt so horrible. She knew that her best friend, Ray, had called and asked if she wanted to go out to karaoke. She remembered having fun singing, and was actually proud that more than two people clapped for her that time.

She remembered watching a cute guy sing and then going over to talk to him. Was his name Jon or Joe? She also remembered hitting on him. But she was sure by that time she had already had a couple beers.

She vaguely remembered sitting back down with Ray and bitching about what an asshole Jon was. Or was it Joe? She had ordered a shot of tequila.

She groaned at herself as she remembered ordering more shots of tequila. She was never very good at rejection, and JonnyJoe had put her in a bad mood. She recalled hearing a faint voice, possibly Ray’s, saying, “Sweetie, I think you’ve had too much. I better drive you home.”

She struggled to remember what happened next. She was sure that Ray had taken her home, but she didn’t remember him leaving right away. Ray was such a sweetheart; she knew he wouldn’t have left her until he was sure she was safe and comfortable.

She couldn’t remember anything else but that. She didn’t even remember Ray saying goodbye.

She slowly pushed herself up in bed and realized she was naked. She could smell the cigarette smoke still lingering on herself as well as on the clothes she had worn last night, which were now in a neat pile on the floor. She glanced down at them, wondering how she could have undressed herself as drunk as she was last night.

She slowly bent down to sort through them, knowing they would have to have a good washing. Her eyebrows furrowed together as she suddenly struggled to remember more of what had happened last night. She stared at her dirty clothes and asked herself, “Where’s my thong?”

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