Posts Tagged hangover
After an arduous morning dealing with a nasty hangover and an overly energetic Hip, CK and I managed to finally emerge from our hibernation. But, not before we washed away the stink from the night before.
CK and I have been saving the planet for months now. Whenever we showered, we conserved water by showering together. We helped each other ensure all our crevices were clean. We brushed our teeth and got ready to face the world outside.
We decided to head toward Central Park, but we never quite made it there. Put an establishment like Shake Shack in front of three hungover guys who love to eat, and the rest of the world disappears immediately. We hopped in line and discussed at length all the food we were going to consume. Shakes, fries, burgers… The works! As we were paying, CK suggested we take our food to go and enjoy it outside. Hip and I agreed. When our food was ready we grabbed our shakes and sucked them down like someone might steal them.
We were out the door headed straight to Rockefeller Center. It was actually shaping up to be a nice day. We sat on the benches in front of 30 Rock Center and watched the tourists while we ate. In true CK fashion, he found a group of Spanish-speaking women who were visiting and needed help getting everyone in the group shot. I was simply happy to be out and about in the sunshine rather than being cooped up in CK’s apartment. It was a good distraction. Surprisingly, it was actually helping me get over my massive hangover. That, and the greasy burger and fries and a milkshake. While I was slowly getting over my hangover, I wasn’t quite getting over the night before. I suppose I was putting on a decent face, but deep down inside, I was hurting. I was appalled by how CK treated me after dating for three months.
When we finished eating, CK explored all of Rockefeller Center taking pictures as he moved along. Hip recently had hip replacement surgery, and he was starting to feel it. I kept him company as we sat playing Where’s Waldo in the crowd of people to find CK. When he circled back around, I hinted to him that we should go so Hip could get off his feet. He still had to head back to Brooklyn as well.
On the walk home, CK proposed we try to go to the concert again. I wasn’t so sure I was up for it. I told him we’d discuss it when Hip left since he already expressed his lack of interest in trying to go again.
When it was just the two of us again, we discussed things. Like I said, I still wasn’t quite over the night before, even if we did discuss it that morning and fooled around. When I got it all off my chest, we discussed the concert that night. CK was scheming to get in some way, shape or form. He was hoping to sweet-talk the ticket collectors into letting us in. I told him I would go, but I made no promises how long I would stay, and in full disclosure, I told him I certainly wouldn’t be the most energetic with the effects of my hangover still lingering.
We got ready and made our way to Terminal 5. When we got to the door, CK did all the talking, but it was no use. They weren’t feeling sympathetic at all. The person in line behind us, however, was. While CK was busy sweet-talking, I began chatting with the guy behind us in line. He asked if we needed tickets, and when I explained what happened, he offered us his two extra tickets at no charge. CK was still arguing with the ticket collectors when I finally got him to shut up. I handed them our tickets, and we walked in the door. CK had the most confused look on his face as I explained what happened. We immediately thanked the guy in line over and over and over again. It was truly a generous gesture — A serendipitous moment.
We made our way inside and both grabbed waters from the bar before finding a spot to watch the concert amongst the crowd. Our luck was really turning around, and CK was being extra sweet. It was like night and day from the previous night. I think it was then that I was beginning to forgive him.
When the concert started, I got a little more energy from the crowd. I suppose it was a little infectious. We danced shirtless and laughed and had a good time. Scissor Sisters really do put on a good show. They’re one of the most genuine bands I’ve ever seen perform. You could tell they were having as much fun as the crowd was. This was the final night on the final stop of their tour, and they played it out. There were even points where CK was on my shoulders with me jumping up and down. At one point, CK cut through the crowd like a razor to get to the stage as Jake Shears began crowd-surfing. He came back incredibly excited he touched his hand.
Throughout the night, there were guys aggressively grinding up on my a$$, but I ignored them. However, they started getting a bit more aggressive and overt. I didn’t need this. I was there with my man, and this was quite obvious for all to see. I gently pushed back and then took a big step forward so they could clumsily lose their balance and fall backward. After a few rounds of this, they got the hint I wasn’t interested nor a poll to rub their a$$ on.
At one point, I noticed the assistant of the guy I dated ever so briefly before meeting CK. It was a bit awkward after all. Things didn’t exactly end on good terms there. I avoided eye contact, but as he was leaving, he stopped to say hi. Surprisingly, it wasn’t awkward at all. I was glad to see he could separate himself from his boss’s issues. That being said, Monday morning, I’m sure he was right back at the office saying, “You’ll never believe who I saw last night!”
When the concert was over, CK was raring to go and wanted to go to a bar. I was spent. I barely made it through the whole concert. I could tell he was disappointed, but he did a good job of hiding it as he took me home. I was happy to see the CK I knew and fell in love with again. When we got back to his place, I was still feeling a bit of the infectious energy from the crowd, and CK was still in concert mode. We stripped down to get ready for bed, but instead of falling asleep, we had the most epic sex we’d ever had to date. It was incredible! It was exactly what we needed. All our frustrations and cares were gone. It was a bit mind-blowing. It was passionate love-making at its best. It was all there, and I was truly happy again.
After our epic romp in the sheets, it was time for bed. We had plans for the following day, and we both had a very long and eventful weekend already. With that, we turned out the lights, and I fell asleep with CK nestled in my arms.
Preparing to get ready for the Scissor Sisters concert was a sh*t show and a half. This was twice now CK and I fought before going to an event. I was beginning to wonder if we would ever be able to go to these kinds of events without it turning into a fight. I had finally grown more comfortable with the crowds at these events, but I was growing uncomfortable with the idea of going with CK to them. Living up to what I thought were CK’s expectations was a lot of pressure to deal with.
CK and Hip were ready, but the tickets were nowhere to be found. After quite some time, Hip managed to find the tickets behind the couch. It seemed like he happened to know where they were in a moment of clarity. At this point, we quickly made our way out of the apartment to see if we could salvage what was left of the concert. Like the flip of a switch, CK began apologizing to me and asked me to come along and be happy. His main concern was getting to the concert, not whether or not we were okay. It was incredibly selfish, and it hurt a lot. We quickly hustled the ten blocks to the venue, but I skulked behind a few paces every turn we made. I was really hurting deep inside. Things weren’t going very well between us the way it was, but this took things to a new level. I wasn’t saying anything. I was in shock about what had transpired. To be honest, I wasn’t quite sure what I was still doing there.
I’m not good at putting on a smile and bearing down. I may have been present physically, but mentally, I was in a whole other world.
When we got to the doors at Terminal 5, a large mass of people were walking out the door. CK cut through the crowds heading in the exit only to find the concert had ended. Everyone was leaving. I stood on the street with my arms crossed because I knew there was no hope. I also wasn’t about to chase CK through a mass of people. When CK finally realized all hope was lost, his anger returned. Hip continued to apologize over and over again, but CK wanted none of it. I wasn’t upset in the slightest because I was in no mood to go to a concert. The three of us managed to find each other, and we all agreed we were starving.
I was pretty wasted, and we stumbled back towards his apartment searching for somewhere to grab food. We didn’t pass anything along the way, and CK mentioned getting take-out delivered. When we got back to his place, I hopped into bed immediately. I was hungry, but more importantly, I was drunk and upset. I wanted to go to bed to escape what was going on around me. I fell asleep in CK’s bed still fully clothed.
I woke the next morning to the sound of Hip knocking on CK’s door. Originally, we planned to go to the cloisters in north Manhattan, but those plans would never come to fruition. For some ungodly reason, Hip was wide awake with lots of energy. I, on the other hand, was incredibly hung over. Everything was too bright, too loud and too real. I just wanted to go back to bed and sleep off my hangover. Hip sat on the foot of the bed talking about the night before and asking a lot of questions. Apparently, he had even more to drink than I did. He kept asking if we actually ever made it to the concert, and this was really the last thing CK wanted to hear. Every time he brought up the previous night, it made CK grow more and more frustrated.
At one point, Hip excused himself to use the restroom. CK and I took the opportunity to chat while he was absent. I was still quite upset, but I wasn’t going to make a scene. This was the perfect opportunity to talk. I brought up everything from the night before and explained how none of it was okay. I point blank asked him what Hip handed him the night before. He responded, “I have no clue what you’re even talking about.” When I pushed the issue, he denied any recollection of it emphatically. After my suspicions and insinuations, he detailed how the only substances he partook in the previous night was alcohol. Based on his reaction and emphatic response, I believed him. I was not okay with how he acted or how he treated my, but I did believe him. I put my worries aside and took his word for it. I had no reason not to believe him. After our previous conversations on the subject, I wondered if maybe I had finally gotten through to him.
I told him if he ever lays a hand on me like that again, we’re done. He didn’t hurt me physically, and I did loved him. But, this was not something I would tolerate. The next time, I was actually walking out the door, and I was never coming back. I made sure he understood how serious I was about this. I wasn’t afraid for my own safety. I was more afraid for both of us. I didn’t know what would happen if things escalated out of control because we both had short tempers. I stressed this point numerous times. Again, he apologized emphatically. I could see his apology was genuine, and I accepted it. He loved me, and I could see it pained him to know how much he hurt me. He apologized for everything and I forgave him for everything. “Forgiven, but not forgotten. We will not go through this again,” I added.
We literally kissed and made up, but things didn’t stop there. He was very sweet in his remorse. Apparently, he was feeling a bit frisky. Warning: The following may be too graphic for some. We started to make out, and when I pointed out Hip just on the other side of the bathroom door, he didn’t stop. As per usual, I woke in the morning raring to go, and CK took advantage of this. We were making out and my hands were exploring his entire body under the comforter. He was straddling me, and he reached down with his hand and sat on top of me. It was incredibly hot, but I was still a little self-conscious about the whole thing.
Just as I predicted, Hip emerged from the bathroom with CK still straddling me. I didn’t know what to do, but we didn’t immediately separate either. We both turned our gazes to meet his with a guilty look upon our faces. He knew exactly what was happening, but he went about his business accordingly. We all laughed at the situation as I slowly removed myself from CK. It was necessary to break the tension in the room.
We continued to lay around for a majority of the morning chatting and relaxing. Before Hip got back into the previous night, CK pleaded, “Can we talk about anything other than last night please?” After some time, we were finally able to motivate ourselves to get out of bed and face the day…
When I woke up in the morning, I had little recollection of the night before, even leaving the bar. I could only remember a flash of about ten seconds of sex, and I actually remembered enjoying it. It was a scary feeling.
As the morning progressed, I didn’t let on that I blacked out the night before. I was hoping Smiles would divulge enough details for me to start piecing things together. I had so much to drink, I was still drunk when I woke that morning.
He hopped out of bed and went into the bathroom. I took the opportunity to lean off the bed to retrieve my boxers and put them on.
I went to the bathroom and cleaned myself up as best I could. I tried to fix my hair, but it was no use. I made a comment to Smiles about this, and he noted it was because I showered the night before. I showered the night before? I did not remember that AT ALL!
I wanted nothing more than to brush my teeth. Of course, Smiles didn’t have an extra toothbrush. I squirted toothpaste on my finger and brushed my teeth Survivor style. This was turning out to be a pretty sh*tty morning. I asked Smiles if I could borrow a t-shirt instead of my button-down from the night before.
Smiles detailed what he wanted to do with his day. He had a lot of boxes in his apartment he wanted to get into storage. He was able to procure a storage unit across the street from his apartment. It was necessary to transport his belongings from a storage unit in Harlem. I volunteered to help him since I had no plans for the day and was looking forward to spending more time with him. I had no idea how big a mistake that would be.
We began our journey at Starbucks. He ordered his favorite “salty pretzel drink,” and I ordered a coffee, a brownie, and pound cake. I was starving. We quickly snagged a cab to stay on schedule and sped up the FDR Drive. The cab wasn’t able to drive all the way to the storage facility because the New York City Marathon route was between us and the facility. We arrived at the storage unit just before his appointment only to find that the storage shuttle he booked was unable to make it to the facility. The trek uptown was for not.
We walked to the nearest subway stop downtown, and hopped aboard. At this point, my hangover was kicking in hardcore. I was feeling very sick. With every subway stop, I climbed deeper and deeper into the misery hole. Smiles was trying to talk to me, and I was giving him “um hm’s.” When we were about three stops from getting off, I started to feel extremely nauseous. I was not going to vomit in front of Smiles and in front of everyone else on the subway. I was going to make it, even if I had to run to a trash can on the street. I used all my being to keep it down and not give it up. Smiles could see I was not doing well, and suggested we hit up a bodega for a bottle of water. The minute I entered the fresh air, I felt infinitely better, but I still wasn’t 100%. I downed a bottle of water and soldiered on.
We walked around a bit and did some window shopping before stopping to grab lunch at Lucky Strike. I ordered a sandwich, but I wasn’t able to eat it. Smiles was very sweet all day long trying to take care of me. He gave many suggestions for ailments, but many of them involved liquor. No matter how small the amount, the mere thought was triggering my gag reflex. I asked the bartender to box up my lunch so I could eat it later in the day when I was feeling better. He provided me with some relief by offering peppermint essential oil to rub on my temples and under my nose. Surprisingly, it worked quite well.
We walked back to Smiles’ apartment so I could gather my things to head home. It was clear I was no longer a human being. I was a mere shell of a man. I kissed Smiles goodbye and walked north to the Christopher Street PATH station.
I went home and curled up on the couch and watched TV while I contemplated my recent life choices. After about an hour I was able to eat my croque-monsieur, and it was delicious. Hopefully my day would end better than it started.Follow @onegayatatime
Time away. Time away from work. From stress. From my relationship problems. Time away from N. I just needed time away to escape it all.
Following work that Friday, I hit the road to the Jersey Shore at 1:30 with one of my best friends, D. We were getting a head start on the mass exodus that happens every weekend in Hoboken. We really lucked out and didn’t hit any traffic. My stomach was very gracious for this because my hangover was just starting to kick in. I woke earlier that morning, and I was still drunk. I walked into work with my sunglasses on and asked everyone to leave me in peace if at all possible. My wish was granted. Now I was stuck in a car and the positive effects of the alcohol were wearing off.
I thought my conversation with N ended for the day when I signed off Gchat. We had a decent chat, but things certainly weren’t casual yet. Exchanges were still slightly awkward, especially since I tried to drag him to my bed the night before.
However, N wasn’t done talking to me apparently. About half way down to Belmar, I received a text from him. “How was your half day? Are you dts yet?” I read it on my phone and grumbled out loud. Even though I was the one who made it awkward the night before, I didn’t even want to think about him. I turned to D, who had just been filled in on the details of the night before, and I told him what the text said. I asked him what I should do. He said, “You’re trying to put distance between you two right? Then ignore it!”
I took his advice, and I was happy about it. I put the phone back in the console and continued to suffer through my hangover in silence. However, the silence was broken ten minutes later when I received a call from a blocked number. I picked it up and of course, no one was on the other side. I wondered if it was N. Was he calling to see if I was ignoring him? I didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of knowing he was getting to me enough for me to ignore him, so I thought it best to respond to the text. “Half day was necessary. I was still drunk at work. We’re still in the car…” After that, I got radio silence.
An hour and a half later, I received another text from N asking about traffic and our time of departure. I simply ignored this one. I was going to let him hijack my weekend. It would just ruin my weekend with my friends if I spent all my time texting with the guy I just “broke up” with. After some more time, N felt the need to inform me his roommate was down the shore as well. At this point, I was very short. I simply responded, “I know. We’ve been texting each other.” I was hoping he’d get the hint that he was not included in the nights festivities and his services were not needed. He either got the hint or found something else to entertain his time.
At this point, D and I had been drinking for a few hours. We were both six beers deep. D was starting to feel drunk, but I felt NOTHING. This was a typical occurrence for me. I have a very high tolerance, but I was hoping to get drunk. I turned to D and said, “I think I may switch teams this weekend.” I knew I wasn’t going to find a guy down at the Jersey Shore — not in Belmar anyway. I figured why not find a pretty girl to flirt with and see where things go. Not like I’ve never been there before. D laughed and I could see the excitement in his eyes. He knew if this was going to happen, he was going to have entertainment for the rest of the night. He had a girlfriend who was on her way to meet us, but at least he could watch me hit on hotties.
There was one particular girl I was watching from afar. I liked her interaction with her friends. She was participating in their festivities, but always kept herself slightly detached and available. We made eye contact once or twice, so I promised myself I would talk to her once I was properly lubricated. I would never get the opportunity, however. The group of them walked outside into a torrential downpour of rain. In the next minute, I found myself very attracted to her. Her solution to the rain was to rip off her dress, crumple it in her hands, and sprint through the rain in her bikini. She gained major cool points right then, but it was too late. She was gone in a flash (or should I say splash).
Over the next few hours, I switched from beer to vodka sodas and got properly wasted. My sister and K arrived, shortly followed by D’s girlfriend. We were all having a blast. We were at D’Jais afterall, so my fist was pumping hard. I danced my ass off, stuffed my face, and went back to the sh*ttiest hotel I’ve ever been to with D and his girlfriend.
On the way back to the hotel I checked my Grindr out of curiosity. No quality bites, as I expected. One bite I wasn’t expecting was from N. I checked what the message said. “Having fun finding ZERO gay men in the Belmar/Manasquan area?” I immediately rolled my eyes. What was he doing!? I tried not to think about it and laid my head down on the pillow and fell asleep. He wasn’t worth losing one minute of sleep over anymore.Follow @onegayatatime