Last New Year’s Eve was important to me. It was my first divorced New Year and I wanted to do something fun. The boys were busy with family and my dear bestie (I use this term ironically, because it’s awful) is a killjoy who was, literally, asleep by 8:00. So that left me with two choices: crafting in my underwear… or Malik.
Malik is a friend from high school, who’s really always been closer to Gail. We initially all bonded over the fact that we wore targets on our backs through the halls of our small town high school. Gail wore the same gray sweatpants and oversized t-shirts every day of 10th grade. I wore ribbons in my combat boots with overalls, a turtleneck, and black-rimmed glasses. Malik was fabulously burnt-orange-scarf-gay. As we grew as people, Gail and I chose destructive marriages, while Malik chose felony larceny, cocaine, meth, that orgy that one time… and that other time. You get the idea. So… I knew he’d be up for New Year’s Eve fun.
The guys were over at my apartment as I dressed to go out with Malik. They disapproved of my company, frankly, for damned good reason after the last time had involved my getting punched in the chest by Malik’s angry ex-lover, on whom he had a restraining order.
Jay: “I thought you said you were never going out with him again?”
Chad: “Didn’t he steal from you?” Yes. Indeed, he did.
Jay: “Are you gonna blame us for not hanging out with you, when you get raped tonight?”
I rolled my eyes, assuring them it wasn’t a guilt trip. I was just going to have fun, with or without them. They called me an idiot. I knew even then that they were right.
The night started off as expected. We made our way Downtown to some guy’s apartment as I explained my parameters to Malik.
Me: “I don’t care if there’s pot, but nothing harder. I’m not leaving my car anywhere or driving drunk.”
That is super fucking lenient for me. That’s as party animal as I get, so Malik agreed.
So we got to Stranger’s apartment (I think it was someone’s ex-roommate, who was out of town) and pre-drank while we waited for the cab. I’d bought a plastic bottle of vodka for $4, because I was on a budget and had refused to buy any drinks at the bar. Malik had told me he’d cover one. The night went on in one of those party montages with the song “We Are Young” playing. There were lots of cover charges and tons of pricey drinks on Malik. I drunkenly informed a bouncer of the following:
“You are a very handsome black man! I don’t even find black men attractive, but you’re really good looking! I’m from the suburbs. There are only 77 black people in my hometown according to the 2003 census!” Yes. I drunkenly quoted the census report.
There was dancing and peeing in a single bathroom with a girl I’ve known since we were literally infants, T. In a different bathroom, I drunkenly referred to a woman as Mexican, which infuriated her. I didn’t understand why and said so, explaining
“What?!?! I said Mexican. You are Mexican. It’s not like I said Mexicunt. What? I said it’s not like I said that. It’s not my fault you…”
I’m pretty sure T yanked me out of the bathroom at this point. Then, I fell asleep in the bar. You get kicked out for that… even if you explain that you weren’t passed out, you were just napping. Luckily, T ran out with me and we sat on the curb until Malik and company came out, which was only a few minutes later. By this time, I was drunk; I didn’t know these people; I was exhausted and cold; I’d called Jay and Chad at least twice to scream “HAPPY NEW YEAR! I LOVE YOU!” I’d explained multiple times that my normal idea of fun was XBOX with my boys. In short, I was done and it was closing time. Then I overheard the following:
Malik: “Get a hold of Keyshond. If he comes through, I’m in for a hundred.”
Me: “Wait. What? What are we talking about?!?!”
Malik: “We’re gonna get some coke.”
Me: “I’m guessing you don’t mean the kind with the cute polar bears?”
Malik: laughing “You’re adorable.”
Me: “I’m not doing coke, Malik.”
Malik: “You’ll just try it. Just a little bit.”
As Gail put it later, you don’t just “try a little bit” of coke. You just do coke. Malik and company continued to try to get hold of Keyshond and I texted Chad to ask if coke really wasn’t a big deal and was just like smoking pot, as Malik had insisted. Chad told me that was crap and he’d be terribly disappointed if I tried coke. At some point, I started drunkenly shouting “I CAN’T DO COKE! I’M A LIBRARIAN!” and “I AM NOT A POLAR BEAR!” which got the attention of some friendly officers, so Malik called a cab… quickly. Despite this, the night had gone well enough and we’d even gotten Malik’s brother’s girlfriend (Crazychick) to get up and into the cab. I’m paranoid and insane and had swiped some mail from Stranger and taken a picture, which is the only reason anyone had the address to get back. Points for being such a party animal. So we drove back to the apartment while Crazychick got progressively angrier. I don’t think anyone ever figured out why she was so upset, but she was loud and violent and we were all drunk, so we sort of just let her hit Malik’s brother.
Not my problem. I don’t even fucking know these people.
I was tired, but curious about pot and Malik started rolling a joint. It took awhile, so I decided to just go to sleep. As I drifted off, however, I was hoisted up and heard Malik say “No. You’re trying it. Breathe in. Don’t spit this out and cough everywhere.” The last order referred to my earlier cigarette mishap. Pathetic, I know. I don’t really remember much after that, so I assume I slept. The night had been good and just far enough out of my element that I felt I’d done something new while I was still young enough to do that stupid shit. Then, I woke up.
Why is everyone naked? Is everyone seriously naked? Shit. What did I take? Is there some kind of drug that makes you want to get naked. I’M not naked. Thank God. Why can’t I move?
I have no idea why everyone’s arguing for the legalization of marijuana, because it was fucking terrible. My whole body felt like lead. I signaled for T’s help and she quickly dressed and came to check on me. Really, she was quite sweet the whole night, even if I do know more about her pubic grooming than I should.
Me: “Did I take something?”
T: “No. You didn’t do any drugs. Don’t worry.”
Even drunk and high, I could tell that she meant I didn’t do anything besides pot, because she was one of those “If it grows in the ground, it’s not a drug” hippie types.
Me: “Can you help me take my boots off?”
T: “Of course.”
Crazychick: crawling on top of me naked “Ooooh. Are we undressing her?”
Crazychick then started talking about stripping me and leaving me in Stranger’s bed as a gift. It was a terrifying thought even when I couldn’t bring myself to care that a naked woman was crawling on me, likely dripping some kind of venereal disease over my sweater dress. As the night wore on, however, I stayed clothed, save for the stockings I’d worn and ripped when I got up to pee. T took her clothes off again and she and Crazychick danced naked.
“Let’s do more shots!”
“We can’t! We did all the shots!”
“We did all the shots?!?!”
“You’d make such a beautiful mermaid. Such a pretty, pretty mermaid.”
T’s fully clothed husband sat on the couch next to me and watched his wife, the girl who played the Virgin Mary in the Christmas play when we were 7, perform oral on her mermaid. I was too high to care and ate most of a box of Reese Puffs that I had found in the cabinet in an attempt to sober up. At one point, Crazychick crawled on top of me and asked:
Crazychick: “Have you ever kissed a woman?”
Me: “I don’t care.”
Crazychick: “Do you want to kiss a woman?”
Me: “I don’t care.”
Seriously, what is the appeal of pot? Or kissing women? Their mouths are way too soft. It’s like swallowing not-yet-set Jello.
So, in summary, I got kissed by a woman, got to see the Virgin Mary all grown up and performing some girl on girl action with a complete nutcase, and had a nice chat with T’s husband about how it doesn’t bother him to watch his wife go at it with a woman, because he can’t offer her that anyway. Then Malik’s brother came out and saw his girlfriend under someone else and it was just about time to go. All the while, Malik slept in the chair next to me until I felt I had enough Reese Puffs to absorb the liquor and drive him to work sober. I got home, vomited, went to sleep and once again vowed never to party with Malik.
Belle of the Library 