Forget everything you ever knew about TGIF – and no, I’m not talking about TGIF as in TGIFridays (although I do love great all-day-everyday drink specials and delicious artery-clogging appetizers. No. It’s all about TGIT these days. If you missed the memo (as I apparently did), Tuesday is the new Friday – or else at least at my apartment it is…
I never really understood mid-week drinking. Well, outside of happy hour, networking events, wine nights, and….well….okay, fine. I get it. Sometimes you need to just let loose. Tuesday is apparently the new “it” night to do such.
A few weeks ago, I got back from out of town on a Thursday morning. My roommate’s first question: “Can you look at my head? I think I fell and hit my head on something at the bar Tuesday night because I woke up yesterday morning with blood on my pillow.”
Yeah, yeah, it happens. “Maybe it’s a one-off,” you say.
Case in point: Tonight. 2:46am. Okay, so technically Wednesday morning.
Here I am, curled up in bed listening to a rain storm (thanks White Noise) app trying to fall asleep. In the war against insomnia, I’m fighting a losing battle. The army of sheep is out to get me. I’ve lost track of how many there are, but they seem to keep multiplying until – BOOM. They hear a noise and scatter.
That noise is the front door of my apartment building banging open. Typical. My neighbors are drunk.
Then I hear the door to my actual apartment open. My roommate is home.
I hear voices. They’re talking to his dog. Loudly of course. Whatever…I’m still awake so I can’t be annoyed for being woken up or anything.
The next thing I know, I hear the voices migrate down the hall and go into his room. The door shuts, and I know it’s about to be one of two scenarios:
- Hear the bed banging against the wall for a while, or
- Enjoy silence because they drunkenly pass out.
I have no idea who Mr. Tuesday is this week, nor do I care. I just hope they’re drunk enough that they pass out and my virgin ears are left free and untainted.
3:52am. I hear a door creak and someone stumble out of what I can only assume to be my roommate’s bedroom – unless someone passed out in the bathroom. They stumble around the hall for a moment, but then….?
MY BEDROOM DOOR FLIES OPEN.
What in the hell-o is going on? Oh wait…Mr. Tuesday thinks my bedroom is the bathroom.
Thankfully I’m able to startle him with a “Bathroom’s the next door down – right across from the room you just came out of” before he pulls down his pants to relieve himself. Crisis averted.
While Drunky McGee goes to the bathroom, I reach over and push my bedroom door shut. “Let’s try this sleeping thing again,” I think to myself.
3:54am. Mr. Tuesday stumbles down the hall. He must be thirsty (for something other than the D) because I hear him stumble into the kitchen.
NOTE TO SELF: Buy plastic cups in case drunk tricks are thirsty. Plastic cups = less dishes in the sink = less for me to wash = happy me.
3:55am still. Mr. Tuesday stumbles back down the hall toward roommate’s room.
OPENS MY DOOR AGAIN, this time thinking he’s back in my roommate’s room. It’s like I’m trapped in a cliché porno scene except I have no desire to sleep with the guy. Sweet baby Jesus, deliver me from evil.
As he hears my door creak open (thank you, vintage apartment, I will never complain about you again….at least today), he leaps out of bed and comes to take Mr. Tuesday back to his room just as “Sorry buddy, still not the right room” rolls off my tongue.
(Exit roommate and Drunky McGee)
Drunken giggling is heard from roommate’s room after door shuts. I debate barricading my door but decide it requires too much effort.
10 minutes later, insomnia is still winning. I’m now thirsty (and not for the D) so I head to the kitchen. My roommate is apparently still awake and comes out to apologize for his drunk friend and says he had a feeling I’d either be super pissed or laughing about the situation.
We laugh about it as expected.
He goes back to bed.
I decide to share the ridiculousness with the world. You’re welcome.
Welcome to my Tuesday. I can only imagine what’s in store next week…