So here’s the thing about experience, it always leaves you thinking, “had I known?” but how would you have known? No one’s putting up all these insightful information on their blog so people don’t wear playsuits whenever they plan to get drunk. Oh hollup… I am. 😁
February xth 2021 – It’s close to midnight and I can swear that this red wine whose name I cannot remember has become 10 times sweeter. I turn to my friend on my left and smack my lips suggestively and I’ll never know if she understood my sign language for, “Damn this wine tastes so good,” but I go with her low “woahhh” with her wine glass raised high above her head. She’s definitely feeling it too. Definitely.
I never dance at clubs, mainly because I never go willingly as I’ve never seen the point but today, there’s a screw slowly loosening in my head and I’m up, moving my shoulders and bobbing my head, left and right, up and down, to DJ Kaywise and Phyno’s hit track Highway. I LOVE this song! And I can hear all the little under beats like they’re calling my name.
The coloured lights begin to dance before my eyes and now my body has joined my head and shoulders. I can feel my legs begin a familiar routine of leg work when I suddenly stop.
What is that feeling? I can’t put a finger on it but I start to feel very different. My head isn’t bobbing anymore. Confused, I look around and take in the dancing, sweaty bodies, the flashing club lights, the swaying liquids filling curved glasses moving in a vertical motion from human lips and back. My eyes roam to the far left and falls upon a door and that’s when I realize… I’m pressed!
Oh sh*t! I think as I frantically seek out the clearest path to get to my destination, but I can’t think straight. My thoughts race but my body slows and it takes me a full 10 minutes to put my wine glass on the nearby table, make sure it’s standing straight, inform my friend I am heading to the bathroom and actually stagger there.
I put my phone on the cistern and sit down immediately; again, I remember I have to take off my shorts and that is where the trouble begins… I am not wearing shorts. I am wearing playsuit that would take more than pulling down to become shorts.
Ok don’t panic. Where is my zip? Feeling all corners of my body, I can’t find a zipper anywhere. Is this the playsuit without a zipper? I can’t remember so I search again but still, no zipper. Will these party people notice if I pee on my body? Ew Favour. Stop that. Ok ok. I search again and in this time I begin to fret, then I start to cry.
Who took my zipper? I sit on the covered toilet and think of possible suspects; could it be my friend? Or that boy that kept trying to rock me? Or the other girl that kept trying to feature in my snaps? Ugh! Calm down, calm down, A B C D E F G How am I supposed to pee now?!
I take in the “was-white” tiled floors and walls, plain white door with the faulty lock and the partially open door letting in streaks of fluorescent light from the corridor and just like before… my breakthrough comes.
I don’t have to take off my playsuit to pee! Excited, I quickly adjust my outfit and the sweet relief that envelopes me cannot be described with words. I quickly rush out of the toilet – dried tears and all – to join the party, my friends must be looking for me by now, I must have spent a lot of time in there.
I grab my phone off the cistern, flush and rush back to my previous spot; arriving and asking my friend, “Hope you weren’t worried?” She throws a puzzled glance at me, opens her mouth and the words, “You didn’t waste time.” come out but I’m too busy to notice. I’m back to sipping some tasty wine.
It’s the next morning before I realize my foolishness and oh how I laugh at myself in the mirror, red eyes with my contacts still intact, oily face and other fringe benefits that come with a hangover.
Don’t do alcohol children, run.
Until next time, I remain your favourite Wolf. 🐺✨
Stay happy, stay bad.
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