i may be an alcoholic, but that title comes with some misconceptions and taking travis out for his 21st birthday did a number on me. my torso is literally sore inside. you have to understand, i'm someone who can drink three glasses of whiskey and still ace an interview without anyone even wondering if i'm drunk.
but 21st birthdays are entirely different beast. a beast made of irish carbombs, red-headed sluts, flaming shots, countless beers, and patron with redbull.
the redbull was a mistake.
by the end of the night, i was stumbling drunk-- more so than travis-- though i did manage to convince the corner store to sell us a six-pack of racer 5's delicious ipas at 2:35am on the grounds that laws don't even relate on your roommate 21st birthday.
and despite it all, we both woke up at 10am to go wine-tasting in napa with his mom and her boyfriend.
sometime in there, i got a call from the shoe store asking me to come in for a second interview-- which i agreed to-- though i'm not sure how i managed that considering how intensely fashion-focused the first interview was and how my fashion consists of mismatched laundry and torn converse. but nothing makes a lot of sense to me right now anyhow.
it's been a blur.
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