Hung out at my friend Courtney’s house tonight. There were about six girls over there, and, because we are soooo cool, we decided to play Catch Phrase, which was actually incredibly fun. I haven’t laughed that hard in a really long time.
When I was 14, my best friend Alex and I went with her family on vacation in Mexico. We were there in late December, over Christmas. Early on in the trip, we met this Mexican guy on the beach who told us we should call him if we wanted to go out with him and his friends. So on Christmas Eve, we called him, and we met him and his friends at this nearby hotel. It was me, my best friend, and like 15 teenage Mexican guys we’d never met before. We had such amazing judgment as teenagers.
We’re getting ready to head out on the town, and the guys ask the valet to bring their cars around. A few minutes later, three cars pull up in front of the hotel. They’re these top-of-the-line luxury SUVs. Alex and I are like, “Dude, what the fuck?” The guys speak very little English. We speak some Spanish. We manage to communicate to them, somehow, the concept of “What the fuck?” in Spanish, and it comes out, slowly and with quite a bit of circumlocution, that these are the children of Mexican drug traffickers. Because we are fourteen, we think this is awesome and very funny, and we spend the next five hours partying with the drug trafficking spawn. They buy us dinner. They buy us drinks. They buy us T-shirts and souvenirs. Then they drop us off at our hotel right before our curfew, as we’d requested. And that’s it. That’s all that happened. They are complete and total gentlemen the whole night. Alex and I still look back on that night as proof that God loves us. Like, we definitely should have been sold into slavery, or at the very least raped, that night, but instead we were treated like princesses. We are two lucky people. It’s like this one time that I wanted to mix bleach and ammonia in a closed room, because I’d marked up a tile floor with my boots and I felt that would be the best way to get the mark out, and Alex said it probably wasn’t a good idea because the ammonia might damage the tile. We should have died that night, too.
Anyway.
Here’s the point: the next day was Christmas, and everything was closed. Me and Alex and her family got up and ate waffles for breakfast. Alex and I were hungover as hell from the night before.
That afternoon, we’re all playing Catch Phrase. My word is “waffle.”
I say, “I had one of these this morning!”
Alex’s father is like “A hangover!”
Sigh.
