Ms. Drunk at a Club

Regular readers may recall previous posts about manifestations of a disease that I like to call Brain vs. Mouth.  This post is about its sister disease, which is essentially a three-way bitch-fight between Drunk Brain, Sober Brain and Mouth.

Before I continue, let me reiterate that all three parties employ a particular brand of logic that is perfectly sound in and of itself.  It’s just that each brand of logic is incomprehensible to the other parties and to most rational human beings.

  1. Drunk Brain is… well… Drunk Brain is just drunk.
  2. Sober Brain is the closest that I can get to conventional wisdom.
  3. Mouth just does whatever the hell it wants.  Picture all possible actions — ranging from the reasonable to the bat-shit mad — on a big spinning wheel.  Mouth spins the wheel and does whatever the hand lands on.

So, keeping these facts in mind, let me take you back to a crisp fall November night, where this story begins with a couple bottles of wine and a bag of pretzels…

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

It was Friday night, and it was meant to be a classic girls’ night out.  My last man-shopping bender resulted in the loss of my pants, but that wasn’t on the agenda this time.  All we wanted to do was have some wine together, get a little silly and dance it out to crappy French music somewhere that didn’t charge us an entry fee.

My companions for the evening were two lovely ladies, hereafter known as Ms. Hair and Ms. Holland, the former having consistently fantastic hair and the latter being the embodiment of all things awesome about being Dutch.

Ms. Hair was the star of the evening and managed to have a sizable following of eager young bucks who waited on her hand and foot and who provided us, her swashbuckling companions, with constant refills of Grey Goose.

I was perfectly fine with this arrangement, as the vodka was seeping into my brain.

It was after an undetermined number of these free drinks that I encountered a young man who looked like a French Shia Laboeuf.  This was also about the time that Drunk Brain joined the party.

My conversation with Shia LaBoeuf went something like this (I must warn you, this is a rough reconstruction, as I was pretty much drunk off my face at this point):

Shia : Hi, what’s your name?

Drunk Brain : HAHAHAHAHAHA He looks like Shia Laboeuf!  Shia Laboeuf sounds like Shia LaBUTT.  HAHAHAHAHA.

Sober Brain : Shut up, Drunk Brain.  Let the girl work.  This guy isn’t a total train wreck, and she deserves to have some fun tonight.

Man-shopper’s Mouth : My name is Helene.  And your name is Shia.

Shia : What?

Drunk Brain : TEEHEEHEHEHE Man-shopper is sooooo smooth.

Sober Brain : Oh god.  I can’t watch.

Man-shopper’s Mouth : I’m American!

Shia : No you’re not, you’re Asian.

Drunk Brain : Touché!

Sober Brain : Next!  Next!  For the love of god, Man-shopper, NEXT!  You’ve met moss that is smarter than this guy…

Man-shopper’s Mouth : Why, yes I am.  What do you think of Asians, sir?

Shia : I love Asians.  They are so… Asian.

Drunk Brain : Hmmm… I’m not sure, but why do I get this feeling that Shia is a little thick?  Oooo wait a minute, what do we have here?  Bouncy seat cushions!  Bouncy bouncy bouncy bouncy bounce bounce, I’m Tigger!

Sober Brain : < absent >

Man-shopper’s Mouth : ME TOO!  I LOVE ASIANS!

Shia : I know right!  Asians are so beautiful.  So exotic.

Drunk Brain : Okay, I’m drunk, but I’m not stupid.  I’m definitely getting a vibe of douche-toolery here, but how do we make him shut his stupid mouth??  Sober Brain, help a sister out here!

Sober Brain : < absent >

Man-shopper’s Mouth : Ummmmmm….

Shia : Blah blah blah blah Asian blah blah blah love blah blah blah you are beautiful blah blah blah what’s your number blah

Drunk Brain : I’ve got a brilliant idea!  He can’t say anything stupid if he can’t talk!  Just make out with him to shut him up!  Come on, Mouth, you and I both know that I have the best ideas.

Sober Brain : What the hell?  I step out for a coffee break and shit hits the fan…  Stop!  Wait!  WHAT IS HAPPENING?!

Man-shopper’s Mouth : < censored >

Drunk Brain : Hmmm… Sober Brain, were you saying something?  Oh, maybe you’re right, kissing this guy is not the greatest idea.  Poor guy.  He has no idea that he’s not getting a phone number out of this.

Sober Brain : Thank god, you’re listening.  Now, Mouth, repeat after me: “I’ve changed my mind.  I’m drunk, and I’m actually not interested.  Please leave me alone.  Also, my boyfriend is in the military and he will wipe the floor with you.”

Man-shopper’s Mouth : Oh, my roommate wants to go home.  Right now.  We communicate telepathically.  Bye!

Shia : WTF?

Drunk Brain : Nicely done, Mouth.  You are a genius.  He TOTALLY bought that.  You and I make such a great team.

Sober Brain : I don’t know why I even bother.

Of course, after implementing that brilliant exit strategy, I proceeded to stay at the club, wander around and dance indiscriminately to every horrible song that the DJ put on.  At some point, I’m pretty sure that I broke out my running man moves.  Maybe a little robot action.  I really don’t know.  It was kind of a shitshow.

At some point, I ran into Shia again.

And I vaguely remember saying, “NEXT!” and running away.

The next morning, after a 5am sandwich, a liter of orange juice, about three buckets of ibuprofen, and one of the most epic hangovers of my life, I vowed never to drink again…

… It was a vow that I broke shortly thereafter.


Filed under Misses

27 responses to “Ms. Drunk at a Club

  1. Hahaha! Well, I’m glad I’m not the only one has has crazy drunken adventures. I’m glad to know that there’s a name for it, though 🙂

  2. Lifebeginsat30ty

    Really enjoying the graphical additions 😀

    I would say your drunk brain/mouth team is pretty dang normal 😉

    • Drunk Brain and Mouth are such unlikely besties! It’s a little disconcerting sometimes, but I’ve learnt to deal…

      I am glad that you’re enjoying my artwork! I feel that I am well on my way to a career change. Dream job at Pixar, here I come!

  3. Shopper,

    Am proud. As always.
    Glad to see drunk brain is still in action. The last time my drunk brain had a conversation with your drunk brain, we ended up eye-fucking strangers for sport.

    • Drunk Brains, UNITE! All we need are some matching capes and superhero rings, and Operation Hot Sister will be ready to go.

      London may explode this weekend. Either that, or London will remain intact, and we’ll just be nursing a massive hangover for the next hundred years.

  4. Pequod

    Why do young women think it’s cool to get drunk? It’s so stupid.

  5. Hahahaha! Hilarious post! I’m glad sober brain wasn’t completely drowned in this process. But then again, drunk brain certainly does make things more interesting!

    • When Sober Brain completely checks out, that’s when things go WAY south. The last time that it happened, I found myself swimming in a puddle. And insisting that I could drown at any moment. Good times.

  6. Pingback: Tweets that mention Ms. Drunk at a Club | Man-shopping in Paris --

  7. There is no opportunity for some sort of power-sharing democracy. Give “Drunk brain” complete executive control and tell the other two that if they want to stay relevant then they’re going to have to play ball.

    They’ll fall in line.

    Saturday night my drunk mouth conned my way into the VIP lounge of a cool club in Minneapolis (“Spin”) and hooked me up with hot dancers and free drinks.

    Don’t underestimate drunk brain’s resourcefulness!

    • Your drunk mouth has mad skills indeed! My drunk mouth is… well, you’ve seen what it can get up to. I’m not sure that I’m willing to cede complete control yet, not until it proves itself to be half as skillful as your drunk mouth.

  8. Ken

    Just when I thought I couldn’t love you more.

    I love you more.

    Drop everything and move to Nerdsville with me. I can’t promise you riches or Johnny Depp-like features, but I’ll try to make you laugh every day, and will literally worship your derriere.

  9. Alex

    Top Five Post, this one.

  10. And this is amazing.

    What I would like is for Drunk Brain to remember what Mouth says so I can laugh at it/be appropriately embarrassed later.

    The fact that you saw Shia later and said “NEXT!” is my fav part of this entire evening.

    • You’re right, it really is too bad that Drunk Brain suffers from a severe memory disorder. I wonder what would have gone down if I had said NEXT earlier in the evening…

  11. Pingback: What [else] you can learn from Random Dudes I Met in Europe. « Women Are From Mars

  12. I’ve used that “Mouth” trick too. Comes in handy.

  13. Oh this is too funny! I have drunk brain too, but I rarely drink! It’s just my brain 🙂

  14. You are Shia.

    AMAZING!!! There are no words to describe how awesome that was. I can only illustrate with a comparison. Saying that was as awesome as saying you and your roommate communicate telepathically. Word. Amazing.

  15. Pingback: Ms. Drunk at a Club… in Brazil | Man-shopping in Paris

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s