The Dangers of Drunk Texting

Oh My God.

I went into the gym yesterday more than a bit nervous about my textual indiscretion from Saturday. I kind of hoped it would be dead inside the gym since most places were closed Monday and I kind of hoped I could just get it over with today. Waiting is Hell. My anxiety peaked when I saw there were almost no parking spaces the gym was sooooo packed. I tried to walk my personal Green Mile as casually as possible, without a care in the world, while the empty space inside my stomach just grew and grew. My dread was for naught because Wide Load had gone to train at another gym that night. Apparently this is something most of the wide loads do to stave off boredom. Great, I thought, I get to dread that first face-to-face for another twenty-four hours.

Or so I thought!!!!

I get an email today . . from Primo.

He wrote, “have I blown my opportunity forever or is there still a chance?”.

What “opportunity”, I asked him with an empty space growing in my stomach.

“Me and your boyfriend turning you into a sandwich”.

OH MY GOD!!!

I had not texted Wide Load – I had texted Primo.

What had I texted? I had deleted everything when Sunday when the alcohol finally left my system. What had I written? I was trying desperately to recall.

“The Boyfriend would probably balk”, I emailed back.

“Then we’ll find someone else”.

“Um, I don’t know that I could. I was really drunk on Saturday”.

“No problem. We’ll just get you 'really drunk' again”.

Oh My God. I do not know if he was just torturing me with his teasing or if he was really being serious.

And what did I text Wide Load?