Hangover Schmangover
By Thoughtis
Good morning! I know… I’m late. It’s just that this electrician had to come by my apartment this morning to fix the uh… light fixtures and my roommates left me to deal with it and I couldn’t leave a stranger in the house, you know? So I had to wait for him to leave, which made me late. So deeply, deeply sorry about that. Oh, I almost forgot! There was a train delay, too. “Train traffic,” they said. What a joke. Like people don’t have somewhere to be. But anyway, yeah. I was late, but now I’m here, and we can all move on with our lives.
If you don’t mind, I just need to order some breakfast before getting underway with the uh… work and stuff. I ate dinner so early last night, and now I’m starving. I mean I ate at 7 p.m., which was, when you think about it, thirteen hours ago. I feel like I could eat a horse! A stable of horses! But I’ll just settle for a… I don’t know… a turkey leg with some mashed potatoes on the side. Citarella has that, I think. Do you want anything from Citarella?
You’re kind of looking at me like I’m ridiculous. I’m just gonna let you know that turkey legs have a lot of protein in them, and there’s nothing wrong with eating them for breakfast. Come noon, your Special K “breakfast” won’t mean jack. I’ll still be tearing it up and conquering spreadsheets due to that turkey leg, come noon. Duh. As for the mashed potatoes thing, just ew. Stop judging. You can’t eat a goddamn turkey leg by itself. You need a side dish. Didn’t you go to MIT? I shouldn’t have to explain this to you.
James – you’re going to get coffee? Can you pick me up a… grande venti pumpkin – write this down – grande venti pumpkin mocha latte with whip cream and – you know what, make sure there’s not too much whip cream? Like, actually? Get me two of these – grande venti pumpkin mocha latte with whip cream and a caramel swirl and like, a cherry if they have them? Tell them not to be cheap with the cherries. Tell Sveta, she’s my girl. This is a real drink, trust me. It’s on their secret menu. You didn’t know they have a secret menu, did you? If they ask, the password is “Rapscallion,” seriously; they won’t sell you my drink unless you say “Rapscallion.” Thanks bro. Here’s a ten, keep the change. Are you gonna pass Citarella, by any chance?
Anyways. What did I do last night? Jesus Miguel, don’t you have work you should be doing? OH, you only ask because I smell like liquor? Well, asshole, I’ll have you know that last night, when I was walking home from church – yeah, church, buddy. Bet you weren’t expecting that – I ran into this drunk, dying man who needed help, he was basically a lost cause, so I channeled my inner Mother Teresa and carried him to the hospital. And some of his liquor smell rubbed off on me. You judgmental prick. Judge not lest ye be judged, you’d know that if you ever went to church.
My eyes are red? So what, that means I have a problem, now? My eyes are red because I watched a particularly riveting episode of Law and Order: SVU last night and I was moved so deeply that I cried for an hour or two. Having emotions is against the law, around here? Did my employment contract say “I vow not to feel feelings while working here”? I’m genuinely asking, I didn’t read the contract. It was too long and lawyerly. Bad move on my part, but I really needed this job. Can’t knock the hustle, can you?
Oh. Ohhhhh. I get it. You think I’m hungover, dontcha. You think I went out last night, maybe to Dudd’s, had 5-6 dirty martinis, took home a stripper, not just any stripper but Miranda, that cute one who’s studying Oceanography, and you think I was blowing lines off her tits all night. No, the blonde one with the short hair is Trixie. Miranda is the one with that long red mane, lookin’ like a young Julianne Moore or whatever, not that I know who Julianne Moore is. It’s not like I watch that one psychological thriller, Chloe, the one where Amanda Seyfried goes down on Julianne Moore, every time I’m lonely. You’ve never seen that movie? …Neither have I, I said “IT’S NOT LIKE I WATCH THAT MOVIE.” Learn how to listen to people, Miguel. You’re interrupting and jumping to assumptions and it’s a bad look.
Yeah. Hangover Schmangover. Is it my turn to ask the questions now? Who can I pay to go to Citarella for me?