On Drunk Texting

It happens more often than you’d like to admit. A weekend of steadily-increasing intoxication alters your thought process, and before you know it you’re blackout drunk and sending horrifying text messages to a recent one-night-stand. After all, it’s Saturday night (or Sunday night? Maybe even Tuesday night?) and you haven’t gotten laid in a couple weeks. Rather than succumb to desperation and zero-in on the easiest girl standing at whatever bar you’re currently trolling, you begin to long for a familiar feeling. Maybe not “long for” in the sense that you’re strongly desiring the person…just that you’re wishing for something…sex organs…a brief glimpse of companionship…no, not companionship, just sex. And even though all your friends are peering over your shoulder to sneak a peek at what you’re texting, telling you to put your phone away and stop being an asshole, you proceed. Even if you know your attempts at being witty are an exercise in futility. Even if you’re blacked out. Even if you can’t drive yourself anywhere. Even if you might not be able to perform if called upon to do so. You give it a shot, though, because fuck it — sometimes blackout texts transcend funny-creepy and become amazing-awful.

Like, for example, this recent text conversation of mine. So many cringeworthy lines, so many next-day laughs. If drunk texts were a painting this one might be my Guernica. It’s not the prettiest thing to look at but Picasso wanted to pay homage to a bombing and I definitely bombed at this attempt to score a late-night fuck session. For the sake of the poor girl’s privacy, I think I’ll call her Guernica instead of her real name.

I’m not proud of this — I’m not boasting or anything, trust me, you’ll realize that when you read it — but I’ve got nothing else to blog about today.

Backstory: Met at a house party, took her home and took her down before forgetting her name and forcing her to play the incredibly awkward let’s-walk-around-the-neighborhood-looking-for-my-car-I-drunkenly-parked-at-5am game. Didn’t ask her for her number, somehow she had mine. About a month after first contact I stumbled across our text conversation while out drinking with my roommates. And here’s how I act when I’m beyond wasted. I’m “Evan”, she’s “Guernica”. No typos have been fixed in the transcription of this conversation.

Evan: come to birds!
Guernica: i’m working :( i wish
Evan: you should wish. i’m funny when i’m wasted
Guernica: haha so i remember
Evan: i’d say you’re only funny when you’re wasted but I don’t wanna shatter your confidence.
Guernica: whaaaaaaa? I’m hilarious all the time!
Evan: I’ll need one more meetup before I decide
Guernica: Fair enough!
Evan: pick a night that isn’t wednesday
Guernica: I’m working every night but Friday or Saturday
Evan: That’s kinda date-y isn’t it?
Guernica: Eeeek I hate dates. Just kidding. See? I’m sooo funny.
Evan: Wecan. Always skip the ddate and just fuck. See? I’m sooooooo manly.
Guernica: Haha Jesus. Whatever I’m up for anything
Evan: Friday or saturday it is!
Guernica: What are we doing?
Evan: Getting blackout
Guernica: Oh yeah?
Evan: And fooling around
Guernica: Jeeeez louizz
Evan: Or not? Whatever the lady wants. I’m just a gentleman, getting drunk and texting a girl.
Guernica: Haha i apprecaite that. And accept!
Evan: Accept what, that I’m an alcoholic or that I want to treat you with respect long enough for you to let your guard down?
Evan: I text like an asshole.
Guernica: No i love it. That and alcoholism are my two favorite things
Evan: All I need is a pet cat and I’m the creepiest dude ever
Guernica: Can’t wait. Add a red mustache and long finger nails.
Evan: Did you decide on Friday or Saturday. I’m gonna be your own personal stach/nail red what?
Guernica: Hahaha yes! Which ever one
Guernica: Preferably Saturday
Evan: Done. I have to be up at nine but you can sleep in this time. #isthatforwardenough
Evan: Sorry was hash-tagging my text too much? My barometer requires calibration. I should’ve taken it further.
Guernica: Haha good lord. No i think its good. Don’t get carried away now!
Evan: I lied. I have no barometer. I don’t even know what that word means. Will you watch out for me?
Guernica: Yes ur still okay but wavering which is the best
Evan: WAVERING HOW!?!?!?!
Guernica: On going to far. But calling me cute can keep you in safe barometer area
Evan: Cute. Plus I’ve seen you orgasm so
Guernica: Whoaaaaa there haha
Evan: I just convinced a black chick to buy me shots. Free shots!
Guernica: Holy shit! Did I ever tell you a few weeks ago I met the black power ranger? What was that? Did I just one up you? Boom
Evan: No, you just met me
Guernica: Trust me, it wasn’t you. Hows birds.
Evan: I’m at happy ending now. Just convinced a fat black chick to buy me shots. Free shots!
Guernica: So I hear
Evan: From who?
Guernica: You text repeater
Evan: Shut up. Come to happy ending
Guernica: I can’t I gotta get up early. Happy endings not happenin?
Evan: Happenin as in what
Guernica: Crazy fun?
Evan: No. I’m buying shots of water for people bc I’m too embarrassed to drink alone.
Guernica: Are you still drinking? Or takin shots of water?
Evan: Yes, and no.
Guernica: Haha I like it. What Kind of shots then?
Evan: Jager bombs, car bombs, jameson, makers mark. You?
Guernica: Not drinking, remember?
Evan: Whatevan.

A few minutes later my phone died, and then my roommates left me to drive myself back home. Alone and barely conscious. Of course I got lost along the way in slept in my car for a few hours because at some point I realized how fucked up I was. Remember kids, if you’re going to sleep in your car, always hide your keys somewhere outside the vehicle so you don’t get pinched for a DUI!

*The more you know*

One Gang Logic – Who Killed Sex?