Hi, my name is Cal.
ME: PUT YOUR SHIRT ON! YOU'RE OLD ENOUGH TO HAVE FATHERED A GERIATRIC!
I'm a little drunk.
Give me a break. My life is spiraling out of control.
Also, it's Rhode Island Pride.
JEREMY: Cal, we might need to get you home.
ME: Fuck that. It's not even four am yet.
JEREMY: God help us.
HANK: Jeremy, look around, God abandoned this little Gomorrah a long time ago.
We were at the Open Air Party hosted by Prisms. After recognizing one of the bartenders I bedded way back when, I proceeded to get free alcohol and turn into a cross between Joan Crawford and Rip Taylor.
ME: YEAH, I'M LOOKING AT YOU!
RANDOM GUY: Hi Cal!
ME: Oh fuck, I know him? But he's so ugly.
JEREMY: We all make mistakes.
Poor Jeremy. His boyfriend, the biggest catch in the state, sleeps with Carter, the biggest little skank in the state, and he still manages to drag himself out in front of all these judging eyes.
I was determined to defend him.
Mostly because I wanted to get into a fistfight.
HANK: Oh great. Here comes the homewrecker. Want me to throw him into the second floor men's bathroom? I doubt he'd return intact.
JEREMY: I told you, Hank. I'm fine.
Carter sauntered over looking guilty--per usual.
CARTER: Hi guyyyys.
ME: Fuck off slut.
JEREMY: Cal!
CARTER: You should talk.
ME: I AM TALKING!
I was already up in his face when I heard the words "Hot Body Contest" and my focus became a bit diverted. I ran up onstage and started stripping.
In the distance I heard Hank yelling--
HANK: They haven't even started the contest yet!
But I was already halfway naked.
Then I stopped, and walked slowly up to the microphone.
ME: I just want all you tacky bitches to know that my friend Jeremy was too good for that piece of shit Davis, and that Carter has a sexually transmitted disease. So, if you've fornicated with him the past few months--beware. Thank you, good night.
And that was when I blacked out.
My last thought being--
I really need to stop doing that.
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