Ok, maybe this only applies to me. If so, I’m really embarrassed and I might delete this post. Or maybe it applies to everyone. Guys and girls. I’ve noticed that all of the completely pointless and non sense-making arguments I’ve had were when alcohol had been a contributing factor… Heads up, a lot of these arguments end in me crying.
- I’m not drunk. When I have this argument, I’m usually noticeably intoxicated. And it’s usually with my dad or my boyfriend. “Sammie, you’re drunk. Be quiet.” I’ll then go on to cry and say that I’m not drunk and wonder why everyone always thinks I’m drunk when I’m actually not. Real tears y’all.
- You lost my keys. I had this one recently. I blamed David (bf) for losing my keys while we were floating the Brazos river. I cried, again. And threatened to call an Uber because I couldn’t bear the thought of staying the night with him. Low and behold they keys were on my dresser. Facepalm* Idk why this guy tolerates my drunkenness.
- I need a sandwich and there’s no bread. After a fun and booze-filled night, my high school friend, Morgan, and I sneaked back into my room and I got the late night munchies. “Will you go make me a sandwich?” I ask. I’m not sure why, but she agreed. When she returned empty handed, I seriously cried one of those long ugly cries that babies do. “There’s no more bread.” HOW CAN WE BE OUT OF BREAD?!
- I’m leaving. I was on vacation with 3 girlfriends, my boyfriend and one of his friends. We were driving back to the beach house we were staying in and my friend, casually commented about how I had been all over my boyfriend all night. Ha, all hell broke loose. How dare she? What was she trying to say? What kind of friend would say something like that? Just for that, I’m booking a flight back home. Forget all of you. How rude. I’ll just leave. I was seriously on my phone trying to book a flight back home. But I couldn’t figure out how to purchase the ticket, given my current state. We all laugh about it now.
- That’s my shirt. I actually have this argument sober too. At one point, I lived with 4 girls who wore my size. So this was an issue. I’ve seriously been scrolling down my Instagram feed and stopped to comment on my sister’s pic, “Um, that’s my shirt.” Then I’ll proceed to type a long, confusing text about how “tHas my shirt dont u wear IT agian UGH!!”
*If you are my grandma or boss, this is purely for entertainment. I don’t drink, nor have I ever had any of these arguments.