Nov. 8, 1985
Tuesday night I made a big mistake. Todd & Rick and Jim (Todd’s friend) came over here drunk and even though I had a chem test the next day, they managed to convince me to get drunk. Bad news. I drank whiskey (and even yet I shiver thinking about it) and wine cooler. I got so drunk that I puked in the sink on the fourth floor of Indy dorm. I’m still catching sh*t about that. I don’t know what I would have done if it wasn’t for Rick. He took care of me.
Wednesday I bombed my chem test and felt sick all day.
Diary Week wouldn’t be complete without an embarrassing disclosure, right? And everyone loves a good drunk story, right?
Just in case I someday run for president, I feel compelled to tell you that was my first drunken escapade and hangover. I was almost 19 (and it was legal to drink at 19 back then), and college freshmen experiment — sometimes foolishly — with freedom. In the immortal words of Bill Clinton, “I didn’t inhale and never tried it again.”
Enough with the excuses.
I’m still embarrassed about puking in that dorm kitchen sink. What a disgusting discovery some other poor freshman made the next morning. I’m so sorry, Anonymous Frosh.
I don’t tell this story on Diary Week to expose my own alcoholic naiveté but to make a connection to dirty dishes.
They’re a major pain in the neck even when you’re not hung-over and when they’re not covered in vomit.
Which is why I’m thankful for dishwashers.
And my husband.
Are you following me?
We got a new dishwasher today!
And get this: When it was delivered, it was covered in puke!
That’s not the connection.
What’s more amazing about the dishwasher’s delivery is that Tyler ordered it on Amazon on Wednesday, and it was delivered — right to our kitchen — this morning. All for the low, low price of $329. No sales tax, and thanks to Tyler’s Prime membership, no shipping. Yup, we’re among those people who are cheating local businesses by buying items online and shifting the tax burden to brick-and-mortar companies who are required to charge sales tax (read more about this phenomenon here, discovered on the Star Trib’s opinion page earlier this week). I guess that makes me a drunk and my Beloved a tax evader.
I mentioned to a friend that Amazon delivered our dishwasher right to our kitchen, and she wryly noted, “Your husband must be capable of installing a dishwasher, huh?”
Yup. This guy has the tools to make, install, repair or clean just about anything.
Except the toilet. He doesn’t clean toilets.
Like a good plumber, though, he does have the cliché crack.
Still, I’m not complaining. No one was electrocuted and nothing was flooded in the making of this installation.
And now, all the dishwasher racks roll smoothly, no plastic pieces pop off the racks unexpectedly, the silverware gets clean and we don’t have to turn up the TV to hear over the jet-engine-level dishwasher operation. Whoopee!
Let’s celebrate with a drink.