Saturday, December 27, 2008

Taco Holder

I am a lightweight when it comes to drinking. One watered down mai tai and I'll be dialing the big white telephone all night. A second drink renders me so drunk that I no longer care if I am sickeningly dizzy. Well, what the heck? It's the holidays! Sure, I'll have another... After perusing a long list of fancy cocktails I ordered the prettiest one, because well, I am a sucker for cute. "I'll have the Rainbow!," I happily proclaimed. "Hmmm, really?" The waiter warned. "Yes!," I uncharacteristically raised my voice, "I want to taste the Rainbow! Ha Ha!". The waiter warned me again, my friends cautioned me, I contemplated offers of other fruity drinks (the appletini, the lycheetini...), but I still had my heart set on those colorful, layered swirls.

I tasted that rainbow. And then I tasted it again on the way out. Since I am a skilled vomiter, I was fully equipped with a barf bag. I gracefully (yeah, right) fell outside for some cool air and privacy while a friend held my hair back. Yes, I carry barf bags on my person at all times. It's what an expert does. It's not like I have many accomplishments to be proud of, so I like to point out all my various profeciencies and tout them as remarkable achievements. I have a wall map littered with tacks, pin pointing all the various places I've vomited. Sometimes supplementary maps are needed to add specific detail for bigger cities. A shiny red tack marks the corner of Westwood Blvd. & Broxton in honor of this event.

On the ride back home in my friend's car, I demanded a pit stop for snacks. Armed with enough burritos and tacos to start my own Taco Bell franchise, I finally arrived home. After covering my bed with various wrappers and hot sauces, I immediately felt the need to bathe. I grabbed a taco and headed for the shower. That's when I discovered it. The soap dish/taco holder. I've always wondered what that little dowel was for! The way that taco fit so perfectly in its holder was shockingly beautiful to me. Being able to eat a taco while washing my vaguely pukey-smelling hair was exquisite! I had to call everyone that night to apprise them of my exciting discovery.

I've never been so drunk and I hope I never am again, but there was something special about that night. That magical night in which I discovered just because you want something doesn't mean that you should have it, and that my shower sports an excellent taco holder. Should you find yourself in a similar predicament this holiday season (or place of bliss depending on how you see things), I hope you too are fortunate enough to have a friend who will hold your hair back and a revelation so profound that you need to call me at 3am to let me know all about it. Have a festive and safe new year!

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