I’ve gone too far this time. That’s it, I’m done for. Jesus, why am I such an idiot?
“You’ve done this a hundred times before; you just feel a little different,” I told myself. “Just blast the cold air right on you and you’ll be fine,” I said. “Nothing bad will happen to you. You’re too smart,” I insisted. Shows what I know. Please, honestly, I just need your help…ANY help.
You guessed it: I’m currently at Eat n’ Park and — dear God, I can’t believe I’m saying this right now — I’m stone sober.
And I mean sober…like maybe the soberest I’ve ever been in this place.
Is this even legal? I know for certain it’s not safe. Why don’t they teach you how to handle THIS situation in health class? Christ, I would take being arrested right now if it meant I didn’t have decide between a cheeseburger so pedestrian it needs to be called “super” and a bowl of the chicken noodle soup that’s been simmering on the same burner for the past nine hours.
Oh no, the server made eye contact with me thinking I want something. How do I even talk to people here in this condition? Usually I go into cruise control and just lean on the buffet sneeze guard for 25 minutes until I get a biscuit and two pieces of bacon then pass out near enough the booth that nobody bothers me.
I’m starting to feel nauseous. I guess you’re bound to get this woozy when the bathroom reeks that much of industrial disinfectant and urinal cakes, and you haven’t had a dozen shots of peppermint schnapps beforehand.
Great. I’m going to end up the woman whose picture slowly fades in at the end of a PSA. I guess I deserve this: I could’ve been smart and just downed the flask we had in the glove compartment, but I thought it’d be edgy to come in here like a wannabe badass and not even mildly buzzed. Welp, wish me luck.
God help me, this is worse than the time I went to Sheetz and I wasn’t even high.
