Next-Day Drunk

I wake up without a hangover. Face down, alarm blaring, the thought goes through my head: How can I NOT be hungover? Open bar + vodka tonics = Hangover. What's wrong with this equation? As I struggle out of bed, I realize what happened. I can't be hungover when I'm still drunk. I try unsuccessfully to avoid the wall on my way to the shower.

As I'm leaving the shower, I hear the phone ringing. I've missed the call. Madame V leaves me a message: "Shakira, I'm throwing up. Oh my God, what am I gonna do? Call me." She sounds like she's dying. I call her back and sit down at my desk, and try to login to hotmail. I misspell my password six times.

"I can't type my password!" I tell her and start giggling.

"You're still drunk!" she says.

I laugh harder. "Yes! I'm still drunk! It's 8:45 and I'm so late for work!"

As I'm driving, I think that probably it's illegal for me to get on the road. My BAC has got to be around .10.

I make it to work just before 10. Solid. I go directly to Diva's cube, look in through her curtain and start laughing again. She says, "Conference. Cafeteria. Right now." I grab my Taco Cabana breakfast and catch up with her in the food line. Then I start giggling uncontrollably again.

She stares at me helplessly and asks, "What time did you get home? Eight?"

"No, one!" I say, and dissolve into giggles again.

"Can you explain to me what's funny about that?"

"I have NO IDEA!" I scream and convulse.

As we're eating and recapping the previous night's events, AC walks up. "Shakira, your eyes are really glassy. And that Taco Cabana bag is a dead giveaway." This, too, is hilariously funny. I can't tell if she's laughing at me or with me.

Madame V calls again. "I'm coming to work!" she sings into the phone. "I can't wait to come to work and be drunk with you!" Apparently she's done being sick. I keep laughing loudly. Apparently I also have no volume control today. Luckily, most everyone is hungover…and at home sleeping. I am only annoying Cube Boy next to me.

I attempt to send a few emails but typing is awfully hard. Did someone move the keys around on the keyboard? I read an email about contributing money to The Boss's present, grab 3 singles out of my wallet and head to the admin cube to pay up. I stop in Diva's cube. She reads me an email from her date—Ex Nouveau—from the night before. She's talking about the date she and Ex Nouveau have planned for Saturday night; I'm examining my shirt.

"Holy shit, this thing's on inside out," I burst out, and Diva and I start laughing so hard tears are coming from our eyes.

"Walk of shame!" she screeches after me as I go to the bathroom to change.

In the bathroom, I recall how I smeared lipstick on the collar of my shirt this morning. It's okay; it's on the inside, I thought. Unfortunately, that means it's now on the outside. Sweet.

Back at my desk, I hear Madame V arrive. She comes to the doorway of my cube. We look at each other. No words. We start laughing and can't stop. When we've recovered somewhat, she explains her morning, which involves singing to her dog as the dog howls, driving the wrong way through the McDonald's drive-through, and laughing in her car. I relate my backwards shirt story.

At noon, it's time for hangover food. Cube Boy, Slyther and I go for Vietnamese buffet. Not fulfilling. Two fortune cookies later, I'm arriving back at work when I see Ellenita on her way out. "Pappasito's?" she says.

"You're on," I agree. Laughing.

-Shakira 12.19.02