The Spanish Girl

A few weeks ago, I got a girl’s number from a place, but I forget where exactly. Either way, I was happy about meeting her. She had a really pretty face, brunette, with brown eyes; very latina looking.  The day we were scheduled to hang out, I was busy all day writing articles and making tracks.

It was a nice day. The sun was shining on my balcony and I was smoking those cheap backwoods cigars. It was one of those days where I have a “fuck it mentality.” A day where for some reason, my confidence is through the roof and I feel abnormally happy and like nothing can hurt me. For some reason, this state of mind is a trigger to drink for me.

I had a bottle of Jack Daniel’s left over in my fridge from the night before. I figured why not? Fuck it, I’ll just drink some Jack all day and finish my writing.

And that’s what I did.

I managed to get a lot done.

However, by the time I had to meet up with the chick, I was already fairly tipsy. In fact, when I met up with her at the bar, I drank two drinks, which is uncharacteristic of me.

Normally, I wouldn’t have two. I would have just one. A vodka soda.

Despite my intoxication, I was still mad charming and on top of my game. I was kind of a dick, yet nice, articulate, charismatic, complimentary, funny, and I was looking good. When it came time for us to leave the venue, I said to her, “Let’s get out of here.”

“Where are we going?”

I said, “we’re going back to my place.”

I honestly don’t remember what she said, but she was down, otherwise, this story wouldn’t continue. I walked her back before entering the apartment complex.

After we sat on the couch, I did the standard, pretending like we’re putting-on-a-movie kind of thing then I made a move and we had sex.

However, after we slept together, I had more Jack Daniels so I continued to make drinks. I was starting to get fucked up, for sure. After the bottle was all gone, I went downstairs with her to the corner store and bought a bottle of wine. Bad Idea.

This was the point where I had completely lost control. The fact that I went downstairs and bought a whole bottle of wine while I was with this girl, shows me I was out of my mind.

To make matters worse. After the wine was finished, I took this girl out to the bar and a club!

That’s completely NOT LIKE ME in any way. I can’t even describe how weird that is for me to do that. Why would I take her out to a club after we hung out at my place? That’s a sign that I was completely out of it.

Blackout is the name of the game at this point.

I remember almost nothing from being at either of the two venues we visited.

I woke up the next morning in my bed, fully clothed, with everything put away like normal. Nothing was broken or stolen.

I texted the girl.

I got no response.

I could see the read receipts though so I know she’s at least ok.

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