I suck.

Thursday night was nothing short of a disaster.

I had drastically cut down on my drinking for the past month and a half. I've gone from drinking quite a bit nearly every night to drinking once a week, tops.

I had a feeling I'd get drunk on Thursday but it wasn't a big deal because my friend was working and she'd give me a ride.

As soon as I get out on the floor a customer of mine who is notorious for buying drinks calls me over. Then the shots begin. Apparently my club is no longer carrying stoli o, my drink of choice, so I was forced to drink ketel o. This is nearly a reason a quit altogether.

Four shots down. I'm feeling pretty buzzed, but not too bad. I decide to move on and try and make some money. I track down my friend, who's sitting with a customer that we're both familiar with. He's a really cool guy-adorably awkward.

A round of shots is ordered. Then another round...

This guy does go to vip, and he goes for a hours at a time. Somehow my friend and I convince him to take us both to vip. I remember nothing beyond this point, so the rest of the story is what I've managed to piece together using what witnesses have told me.

We get to the back room and decide to do one more shot. My friend and I ordered our shots as water shots but the customer switched mine with his and I ended up getting vodka-again.

Then, with all the charm and poise I can muster, I vomit on the vip bench next to my customer. This clues my friend and the customer into the fact that I am not feeling very well due to alcohol consumption. I am then escorted out of the room and back to the dressing room by my lovely bouncers. I spend the remainder (4 hours) of the night slumped over in a chair by the trashcan in the dressing room.

Towards the end of the night as I am starting to regain consciousness, my friend walks back into the dressing room with a mouthfull of blood and a shattered tooth.

"I fell and smashed my face into the floor," she says in a nonplussed way. Her thumb also appears to be broken and is swollen to twice its normal size.

The house mom is having a bit of a rough night at this point-with me as a pukey drunk and my friend with her bashed up face. I give mom the money to tip out and tip her extra (luckily I had money from my vip in the office), while my friend does the same. She was in vip all night and made over a grand. Too bad that's going to go towards fixing her mouth.

We get a cab ride back to her place and I pass out on her couch. Except I don't pass out-I remain awake. I decide to text ga tech kid, but get no response. Annoyed by the lack of response from him, I make the mistake of texting the ex, and of course get an immediate response. We have a text conversation that goes on for about an hour...I'm still not sure what to make of it.

The next morning I feel absolutely terrible and we start to deal with the aftermath. Blah.

I'm not working tonight because I'm going to a going away party for a customer of mine.

I'm embarrassed to go back to work. At the beginning of the night on thursday, the house mom made an announcement specifically asking us to puke in the bathroom if we had to puke. I guess there was a lot of puking all over the place wednesday night. Of course I had to the be the one of fuck that shit up.

It doesn't help that I get two texts from customers this morning informing me that they heard I had a rough night on Thursday, and they hope I feel better.

I'm supposed to be hanging out with ga tech kid tomorrow. I wish I liked him more.