I'm a little slow today. I just switched to Sanka. So...have a heart?

Saturday, September 08, 2007

I don't learn.

I can't drink like I used to. But I still do. The result is a slooooooow burn hangover that takes forever to go away. I went to Talulah last night with some friends. Drank lots of wine. Brought everyone back to my place. Polished off a bottle of Pouilly Fusee, probably drank some vodka, too... don't remember going to bed, but whatever, right?

This morning, I bounded up at 9:00 stretched and greeted a beautiful day. I made some coffee, and I bounced out the door to North Miami to go coffee table shopping in the Mid-Century stores up there.

And you know what?

I was drunk.

Still.

I realize that now... Hell, I realized it then, as the face-numbness crept in and I thought, "Mother. Fucker. I don't want to get in my car and drive home... I don't want to do anything. I just want to die, right. here. in front of the Museum of Contemporary Art, and holy hell, I'll bet there's nary a Starbucks to be found around here."

I was quite wrong, and there was a Starbucks in the next block. Thank God. So, because my will to live is strong, I went to Starbucks and got a venti iced americano and a turkey sandwich, because I figured maybe I could quell the hangover if I had a sandwich.

And it did. For a bit.

I strolled, poking through some thrift stores to see whether I could find anything, and in my "La de los perros Cipion y Berganza" wander, I came across a hellish antique store full of tarnished busted old crap, with a scary cat woman chainsmoking Newports behind a filthy countertop.

Bingo.

Hungover/drunken shopping seems to be when I actually unclench my Jew-Fist and buy stuff. Normally I'm very ascetic and take great joy in denying myself material objects that would otherwise make me happy. Except, not when I'm drunk. Or hungover. On my second date with Stephen, millions of years ago (okay, four), I got wasted at Tapas y Tinto, and bought my parents a blue Alessi weiner-dog shaped papertowel holder. Because... Why not? Right? Bless his heart, he tried to talk me out of buying it right then and there, but I felt bad for the Dutch woman behind the counter with her silly "Goldfinger" accent, and I bought the damn thing. At 10:00 p.m. on a Saturday night. I had to go back for it a couple days later to pick it up...

In Hawaii I got drunk at dinner with my parents and bought a series of lithographs which are now framed and hanging in my living room. They're of Marilyn Monroe. The whole series of prints and the way I framed it is a little intense... and I don't really like it, but... drunken shopping.

What else have I drunkenly purchased?

A home.

A car.

(Kidding.)

But seriously, I really should learn not to buy things when I'm drunk. Except that I don't. I don't learn. I don't learn that I shouldn't be drinking like I'm 18 again, and I don't learn that when my judgment is impaired, I tend to buy odd crap.

Like wooden water skis.

Yeah, you heard me.

1950s wooden water skis.

I went out to look for a coffee table this morning, and instead of a coffee table, I picked up a pair of 50-year-old water skis. For decoration. And an old Westinghouse-emblem emblazoned top to a 1940s refrigerator dish. (It was cool, and could be used for a penny tray.)

Cuz, why not? I want my house to look like the inside of a Bennigan's.

No, I really bought them because I felt bad for the lady. I shouldn't talk to people in antique shops (especially while still drunk!), because then I end up spending sixty dollars... every time I talk to the owners, magically, sixty dollars flies out of my wallet and I end up with an amoeba-shaped ashtray from the '50s, that's a nice coffee table conversation piece, or some wooden water skis.

I don't have fucking sixty dollars to be spending on water skis for decoration! I live hand-to-mouth, paycheck-to-paycheck. I'm housepoor. And carpoor. And student loans poor. Oh, sure I have a savings account with plenty of money in it, but that money is for EMERGENCIES. Like if I have to buy myself a new Mercedes. And I like earning interest on top of my interest, so I don't touch that account.

But I digress...

I'm now the proud owner of a burning hangover, and some water skis.

And why am I the proud owner of these items?

Because I don't learn. I don't learn that if I continue to guzzle liquor like it's 1998, I will nowadays likely still be drunk when I wake up in the morning. And I don't learn that if I am drunk and in a position to spend money on material items, I will make unwise decisions and ignore that very loud voice in my head that usually tells me, "HEY, MONEYBAGS MALLOY, PUT YOUR WALLET AWAY AND GET THE HELL OUT OF THIS PLACE."

And, having put fingers to keyboard to announce the fact that I am an idiot, I am going to take a nap to try to get rid of this hangover, so I can rally for tonight, and suffer tomorrow. Good day to you.

1 Comments:

Blogger Jess said...

I'm not sure your buying instinct in those shops is hangover-proof... I seem to remember you jutting around those stores w/me and Mer, intently focused on buying something, anything! It was like a mission. Maybe you just need to stay away from those stores for awhile :)

8:39 AM

 

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