Friday, September 24

day 10158: please god, it's me, j...

I went to an Asian fundraiser last night. Tickets were bought, so attendance was required. The cause? I really have no idea, seeing as how I didn't understand most of what was being said (i.e. whatever was in Mandarin). I suspect, though, that it was schools in China somewhere, but I might be slightly confused as they showed a lot of pictures of finding water, building pumps and installing taps.

So instead of pretending to pretend to pay attention, I ended up sms'g ICBBQ most of the night.

Beginning with my opening message of "I sooo need a drink..." I got these responses back...

I know how you feel. Have just one.

Poor girl. We'll drink tomorrow.

Good luck.

I mean in a good way.

See if he has a sister.

Has one approached you?

Let me know if something happens.

ha ha ha!!!

From which memory serves, and it usually doesn't, I was complaining at being at the fundraiser where I didn't understand a word that was being said, complaining about being bored out of my mind, and not being able to go to the bar which was supposed to be closing in 20 minutes (20 minutes ago) but they only just reannounced that it was closing in 20 minutes. Obviously, the emcee's were inbibing a lot more than I was.

Complaining about the eight hundred or so Chinese people in the same room as me and how it completely terrified me to the point of really, really needing a drink but I couldn't because I was with my mother. I went on to tell him how old Chinese men are slimy and how the only good thing that might occur from the night was if I somehow managed to find a sugar daddy. But I couldn't do it, because old Chinese men are really, really, really slimy... I think ICBBQ wants a sugar mommy.

In a moment of panic, I slipped out to the cash bar. Tried to be good and ordered a cranberry soda. Alas, the ensuing conversation with the bartender about how vodka isn't the least bit odorific or detectable led to a shot of vodka being poured into my hastely half chugged cranberry soda. Perfect.

And so the night continued... me, back at the table with mom, aunt, uncle, auntie and a whole lot of single women I didn't really want to get to know, listening to a lot of people speaking in tongues, sms'g ICBBQ about how my mom was sipping so much from my cranberry soda vodka and not noticing the vodka to the point where I thought I might even get her hammered... whooops!

Luck for me, it's a once a year thing.

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