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A
Hangover Story
It's
shortly after noon on Sunday. The phone rings 4 times and then
Gigi and Antonio's answering machine clicks on. The melodic voice
of Shakira starts resonating through Gigi's bedroom…
Shakira: Wake up Gigi!! Geeeeeeeeeeeegeeeeeeeeeeeee!!!!
Rise and shine!
Gigi manages to lift the phone off her nightstand and get it to
her ear.
Gigi: Blergh aargh bleh.
Shakira: I sense someone over-imbibed last night…
Gigi: Hung. O. Ver. My friend booze has betrayed me. You?
Shakira: Same.
Gigi: Why are you awake and chipper before 2 on a Sunday
afternoon??
Shakira: Big Guy offered to take me to a restorative brunch,
so I'm just waiting for him to finish showering.
Gigi: Treating you to a brunch AND showering first!! He
gets at least 50 good boyfriend points.
Shakira: Well I don't know about 50. I did promise him
sexual favors in return for the brunch.
Gigi: Oh like that isn't a win-win for you!
Shakira: Hee!! Yeah you're right, he gets the 50 points.
Gigi: That one works every time, though. Why do you think
Antonio's out buying me donuts and coffee?
Shakira: Ooh, nice one. Yeah, we must never tell them of
our selfish motives. I so love the win-win. So how was your night?
Gigi: Not bad. It was a birthday party and the birthday
girl sang a stirring rendition of "My Way" before passing
out in a lawn chair. I think I may have ingested several plastic
cups of cheap-ass crappy beer, though. They did that trick with
the lime slices on top of the keg…
Shakira: To pass the even cheaper stuff off as Dos Equis!?
God, how much could they have possibly saved?
Gigi: I don't know, I think they just like the joke. But
now I have those cheap beer woodpeckers trying to peck their way
out of my skull. Dos Equis doesn't give me woodpeckers...
Shakira: Oh so hurtful.
Gigi: Totally. So how was your night?
Shakira: I wish I could report some crazy party happening.
We were pretty tame. Are we getting old? My mom and dad actually
came over the party and then Mom said, "It wasn't like I
expected at all. No one was drunk!"
Gigi:
NO way! She couldn't tell you were blitzed?
Shakira:
I mean, I ran down the stairs and yelled, "Hi Mommy!"
gave her a big hug and talked incessantly. Do I always act that
way?
Gigi:
Yeah, you're just like those IDIOTS who say stupid things like,
"I'm high on life!"
Shakira:
No shit. Those kinds of people give me hives. I need some sort
of chemical imbalance to be high in any way, shape or form.
Gigi:
And then when you say something about how drunk you were the weekend
before, they just give you that look.
Shakira:
Uh-huh. The Look: The one that says, "Poor poor girl, going
STRAIGHT to Hell. Hope she likes the heat."
Gigi:
Right. And you want to hiss and spit and make devil horns on your
head with your fingers.
Shakira:
And what are we fighting for again? Getting drunk on Saturday
nights?
Gigi:
So we can feel this way every Sunday morning—er, afternoon…
Shakira:
Just don't go to the grocery store today, whatever you do.
Gigi:
Oh, right. The Grocery Store Effect?
When the flourescent lights, people and general distasteful task
of grocery shopping combine to produce a return to the hangover
you THOUGHT you kicked.
Shakira:
And God forbid the woman in front of you has 61 coupons with her.
One for each item in her cart.
Gigi:
Ooooh, don't…talk…about it…the woodpeckers are
starting up again.
Shakira:
Okay, I'll let you sleep it off.
Gigi:
If I can. It's one of those hangovers that woke me up at 6 a.m.,
looking desperately for Alka-Seltzer.
Shakira:
Oh yeah. You shoud have SEEN the fight I had with a bottle of
Advil this morning. All right, see ya…
Gigi:
[groan] …bye…
-Gigi
and
Shakira 9.1.02
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