Shark Found at a Nantucket Pub’s Door
5:02 pm, August 2nd | by Colette McIntyre
“Wait, ohmygod, did I not tell you what happened last night? Alli was such a mess. No, like — worse than you that night in Puero Vallarta. Maybe just a smidge messier than I was at the school carnival in ’06.
Okay, okay, just let me tell you the story! So, last night, we start drinking at my place. We decide to split a magnum of wine before going to Hallie’s birthday party at Sea Dog Brew Pub.
So I’m playing my “our pre-game is your party” playlist and everything’s fine. Alli borrows that American Apparel crop top from me that she really likes, even though I didn’t really want her to wear it and I had to convince her that her stomach didn’t look ‘too gray’, but whatever, I call a cab. As soon as I hang up the phone, 3LW’s “No More” comes on, and then I realize that Alli is more than buzzed. She tells me she ‘forgot’ to have dinner and I’m like, ‘Girl, I know you didn’t drive over here — you could’ve just opened your damn mouth and some food would’ve miraculously swam in and then you wouldn’t be calling your shoes your boobs right now’ but I don’t say that because I’m a good friend.
We get into the cab and Alli is grabbing my arm and, like, telling me how much she f*cking loves me and telling me that she’s going to buy me Taco Bell later which, like, yeah, great, sure, let’s just get to the party first, also, how can you not remember that I’m juicing right now, y’know? Just so inconsiderate. Alli falls out of the cab at one point but one of her pectoral fins is still in the cab and I can hear that she’s still singing “We Can’t Stop” and I’m just like — I can’t. Like, the cab driver is yelling at me and I’m like, “Sorry, sir. I can’t right now. I literally, seriously, can-NOT. My body lost the capability to can and now I am just a blob of flexible collagenous fibers puddled in your backseat. KTHNX.” Luckily, Alli falls out a block away from the party, so we just walk to the Cafe and when we get there she proceeds to take TEQUILA SHOTS. NO JOKE. FIVE TEQUILA SHOTS. At this point she just has ‘I’m going to have a late night shame spiral at the bodega!’ written all over her face.
By the way, Hallie is nowhere to be found, turns out she had left an hour before with some f*cking Hammerhead.
No, I know, that’s exactly what I thought! I was just like, “I don’t know who was more blind: Hallie, the girl who was drunk enough to go home with a hammerhead and think that’s a solid life choice, or the Hammerhead, the guy whose F*CKING EYES PROTRUDE FROM HIS HEAD.”
So at this point, Allie is basically puking and I am FREAKING. OUT. I’m barely even intoxicated and I’m stuck with this ball of emotions who is getting lime pulp all over my shirt. She keeps trying to talk to me about climate change but only one of her eyes is open and I refuse to deal with it. She gets incredibly defensive because I keep telling her that she’s drunk, which, hello, she is. At one point she just starts shouting “I’M GROWN! I’M GROWN!” at the top of her gills and crying, so I step out of the club for one second to call a cab. When I get back in, she is nowhere to be found. No-Where. I ask that creeper Tyler if he has seen her but he just starts hitting on me. Typical. I call her a bunch of times — no answer. So eventually I just go home. Apparently she tweeted “drunk tub hugs” at 4 this morning but other than that, no word….
OMG, LOOK AT THE LINK I JUST PUT ON YOUR WALL, CALLIE! I think that’s Alli in that picture, outside the bar! OMG. Like, okay, I’m concerned about her and all, but also, WHAT DID SHE DO WITH MY SHIRT?!”