the untold story of the gin aunt
I realized, while looking through my archive, that I never told you guys specifically why I’m the gin aunt.
Anyone want storytime?
Share ballades
okay so like, here we go
4 years ago I decided to take a solo trip to visit my best friend, M (when I tell this story in meatspace I have to specify that my best friend and I share the same name, and I’m not talking about myself in the 3rd person). She had had twins the year before, and when that happened I surprised her by showing up and helping out and passing on some Motherly Knowledge, and was bestowed the title of aunt.
Anyway yeah it was 4 years ago and the giant storm had just passed in Boston and there were 9 foot tall banks of snow on the streets from the plows that had gone by (and then given up, I guess) and plastic lawn chairs everywhere to save parking spots. I’d also decided, while I was up in Boston, to swing by Essex to visit a friend who also owned a company I’d done some product work for.
The first night was great; we slid right back into being besties and it was like time had never passed for us. The second day dawned, and that was the day M was going to drive us all up to Essex to visit E, and maybe buy some slings because what else does the leader of a baby sling group do when at her friend’s sling business? Buy some damn slings.
Everything went fine. M’s babies were the toast of the town. I got some product photography in. Partway through E said to me, “Hey, you want a drink? I’ve got some gin and other stuff here.” Of course I agreed. I don’t turn down drinks and I wasn’t driving.
So E got out her drink-making-apparatuses which really just consisted of a huge fucking bottle of gin, coffee mugs, and those really fancy large ice cubes. After a minute she handed me the mug and went, “I made this a little strong, sorry!” Having abused my liver back in my 20s I just scoffed and told her I’d be fine.
I drank it. It was indeed strong. Maybe I had a second, I don’t know.
I was started to buzz when we left the store. Partway back to Boston, the gin hit me. Like it reared up and punched me in the face and holy shit, M’s new minivan was sweet as hell and it had the live sideview cam so you can see your blindspot and M, did you know? did you know how sweet your car is?
Of course she knew. And then another urge pressed upon me.
“M,” I said. “I kind of have to pee.”
“Oh, M!” she said in a super cheery voice, because that’s how she is. Literally the most chipper person I know. “You can pee in my car, that’s okay.”
I said it then and I’ll say it now: what the fuck?
“I don’t care how drunk I am,” I declared, “I’m not peeing in your car.”
“No it’s totally fine! You can just pee in my car!”
“You just got this car! I’m not peeing in your car!”
“If you have to go just go! I’m okay with it!”
I held it because no act of God could ever get me to piss in the back of my best friend’s car while roaringly drunk. We got back to Boston, where I hopped gingerly out of the car and began shimmying my way up ice-covered sidewalks and steep concrete Boston stairs.
in honor of my kid’s birthday and telling this story, i have just drunk some gin. clink clink, everybody!
I took a younger friend to a national dance conference when I was 21 and she was 18. Third night of the week was THE party night; I swear, it was like every college movie party scene, only with better liquor.
Anyways, I’m having a good time, putting down Aviations like soda and angling to make a move on the guy I had a massive crush on, when I realize I hadn’t seen younger friend in a while.
I take myself out of the room party, track younger friend down in another room party, and put her safely to bed before going back out. Later, I barely refrain from kissing the crush* and both brush my teeth and change into pjs before passing out.
*long and complicated story, kissing him while drunk would not have had good repercussions.
drunk big sister power move! you are a kindred spirit.
This is still one of the funniest fucking things I’ve ever read
