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This is a little story about oversharing and dirty martinis and how  grossness ensues when they are mixed.

One of the persons involved in this story was me, the other was an acquaintance who was bombed out of her skull on Dirty Martinis – at a restaurant I USED to dine at on a regular basis.

After barfing in the restroom  she sort of toddled on these ginormous platform shoes back to our table. I was transfixed, I could not figure out how she could navigate the floor in those things.

Anyway, once she sort of oozed her way back into her seat she sort of waved her hand in the air for the waitress.

She  asked about appetizers and the waitress  recommended the Bruschetta.

My well lit dinner companion then schooled the waitress who probably had to deal with  her pile of  puke in the ladies room on how to say ” Bruschetta”  with an Italian accent no less.

When the language lesson was over and I was patting myself in the back for not stabbing someone in the eye with my fork,   my one and one time only dinner companion leaned over the table and over shared this story.

She told me that before she came out to Washington she had slept with the man who she blamed for her brother’s suicide.

He had a private plane so she got to fly on that- she thought that was awesome. Anyway she did this so that she could ‘get into his head and feel if he had any remorse ‘ or felt anything at all for her’

Her story sounded  freaky and I wasn’t sure I wanted to hear anymore so I didn’t ask for her to clarify a single word that she had sort of spewed across the table into my face on a cloud of Martini fumes.

It wasn’t until  later I pieced together that the head she wanted to get into was her brother’s head via this friend of his.

By sleeping with him and then flying on his plane.


Lesson here- if you’re going to drink an ocean of Dirty Martinis and you have the urge to over share…for the love of God

Super glue your mouth shut before you say a word.