Drunk Dialing

I went to the Alpharetta Wine Opener last night and got drunk. Not so drunk that I didn't know what I was doing, but drunk enough to want to reach out to some people and share some thoughts and feelings. But I didn't cuz I'm not a drunk dialer.

What is drunk dialing, you ask? Picture this: It's 3 a.m., you're FUBAR'd and the object closest to you is your cell phone. You pick up the phone and start going through your phone book that has numbers of people you haven't spoken to in years but keep just in case they call you. You land on a number, usually an ex, a crush or someone you've decided you don't like and hit the "call" button. They answer, you let it all out. To you, the words make perfect sense and you're relieved to be sharing, but to them, it's mindless jabber. Mindless jabber that woke them out of their sleep, tore them away from their booty call or ruined their good time. Either way, you've got some answers (and questions) to face in the morning.

There are different kinds of drunk dialers. There's the one who calls in the middle of the night, says, "I love you" and hangs up the phone. And calls right back to make sure you heard. There's the one who only ever calls you when their drunk to complain about their life and how they can't take it anymore. There's the one who calls to ask why you guys ever broke up in the first place. The one who calls just to hear you breathe, waiting for you to tell them to come over. The one who calls to tell you how you should keep in better contact and cries for their part in the lack of communication. The one who calls to tell you you were the best piece of a** they'd ever had. The one who calls and spills their guts about the crush they've had on you since elementary school. Drunk dialers come in many types, all of which can be very entertaining.

Now I've always taken pride in the fact that I never do anything drunk that I wouldn't do sober and I don't plan on changing that any time soon. I hate the whole drunk dialing ordeal. It's a control thing, I think. We all know how I like control. Please, when I had my wisdom teeth taken out, I was so thorough, writing directions for whomever was going to be taking care of me. Instructions on when to wake me up, the computer password, how to work the cable remote and how to go about putting ice on my face and bl-bl-bluh. That way, there wasn't a chance for anyone to have to ask me any questions, I could just sleep. Of course I didn't, but I had it set up that way. But I've never drunk dialed. I don't care how in love, in pain or horny I was, I've never picked up my phone and called anyone. As a matter of fact, if I know I'm gonna get THAT twisted, I turn my phone off and hide it. That way I don't freak out in the morning looking at my call list.

Now let me take you on a walk down memory lane. The year is 1999, New Year's Eve of Y2K. My boyrfriend at the time and I decided we wanted to be together in case the end of the world was indeed upon us. We were in the beginning stages of our relationship and decided to watch the ball drop with our respective families (truth be told, his mother invited his exgirlfriend to ring in the new year and I was not invited. And he didn't fight for me, shoulda known then). So the ball dropped, I kissed my mother and my brother "Happy New Year," said my prayer, gave my resolution and bounced on down 59 to Nyack to see my best friend and my boo. Lemme explain the set up: My boo was to drive his ex girlfriend to a party we were all attending and I was to pick up my best friend and head to the party as well. Then we would meet and be togther and make love (not love, love, but sweat each other). I must admit, I wasn't very happy about him spending more time with his ex than necessary, but she was sleeping with his cousin, who was throwing the party so I figured it was all right (I DID make a comment about her walking since it wasn't that far, but I was just being petty. And, I also made a comment about my boo being the ass delivery man, and that was just mean, but it amused me at the time, I thought it was pretty clever).

Anyway, we all met at the party and were having a pretty good time. People were worried that something might go down because my boo's ex and I were in the same place, but things were fine. I had an ex there as well, but we'd established a friendship after we broke up and things were good. The ex and I were pretty much separated the whole night, she was in one part of the party, I was in another. I didn't plan on staying long cuz I really just wanted to see my best friend and my boo so I could get home. So I'm gettin' my stuff together, kissing my goodbyes when he goes to say good night to her and she tells him to get out and take his homewrecking whore with him. Whoa, shorty, you don't know me and there's no need to the disrespect. She apparently thought I'd walked out of the house already when she decided to impart her knowledge on who she thought I was. So in one fluid motion, I pivoted, tossed my jacket, cocked back and ran with my fist, ready to hit her.

Now me wanting to kick her ass had nothing to do with my boo, it was a matter of respect. Many of you know, there's nothing I won't say ABOUT a person that I wouldn't say diretly TO them. It's who I am. I just hate he said, she said, so I go to the source. So I expect the same from others. If you think I'm a homewrecking whore, say so, don't sit in a corner seething about how I took your man. Chances are we can sit and talk about it like women and you won't have to have cosmetic surgery to correct the damage I do to your face. Not to mention, a lot of things could get cleared up and we could find out is he was playing both of us. That's the issue: bitches are always divided cuz one is still in hot pursuit of a man. Retards. Moving on.

So the night proceeded with a group therapy session. We were all (and by all, I mean like, 15 people) sitting down and I was talking to this dumb chick about how and why her relationship with my boo failed. For like, 2 hours, it was me and her, raw and uncut. I told her how I didn't plan to be with him but I fell in love and how I was sorry things didn't work out for them. When all was said and done, she still called my boo (note, my boo, not me, the one she disrespected) and said she only did what she did cuz she was drunk.

I HATE that excuse. I hate it with a passion. Things go down because you want them to go down, alcohol doesn't MAKE you do it. People love to use alcohol as an excuse when they f*ck up or finally say something they always meant to say. "Baby, I cheated cuz I was drunk", "Baby I hit you cuz I was drunk", "Honey I got pregnant cuz I was drunk", "I only said I loved you cuz I was drunk", "I'm sorry for calling you at 3 a.m. but why'd you dump me? Why don't you love me? Don't mind me, I'm drunk". Drop it. If you're gonna do something, do the damn thing. Don't hide behind a bottle of anything but your own courage cuz in the end, you still have to answer for your actions. I know not everyone's as up front as I am about things, but people could at least think of my favorite time, the morning after. The next time you get the urge to drunk dial, turn your phone off and sleep on it. Once the fog clears, you'll be happy you didn't call that person.

And that's why drunk dialing's not for me.