*Well, maybe I wasn't as innocent as I think... but that's not the point.*
They finally left the house empty and that meant one thing to me: An entire week of pool parties.
Night after night it was Black-out Hotel at my house featuring all the Cherry Burnett's vodka and Natty Light we could down before having to take a pre-work nap. I'd wake up, get to work by 8:30, and make lifting 200 pound kids look easy.
Thursday night rolled around, and we were all more thirst than ever... including my Britney. I called in some options for her and narrowed it down by way of beer pong.
*If there's one thing that makes me hott at a party, it's definitely a man with a consistent, wet shot.*
After winning over eight games, things were getting pretty blurry. One minute I was celebrating a win by pole dancing on my basketball hoop. The next second I was crying because someone had stolen my camera. Then I was catching my BFF and coworker having sex in my driveway. Soon after that, I was waking up to a phone call from my boss, who I totally had a crush on.
"It's Mister M! Where are you girls? It's 9:15. You're late!"
"FUCK! LYNN! WAKE UP! We need to go to work! Like, NOW!"And then.....
"....FUCK!!!! I'm NAKED! And in my PARENTS BED!"Lynn came running in, panicking, half naked and explaining how she woke up in my living room with only a condom wrapper in sight. We assumed it was my best friend for the millionth time, so we tried to figure out why the frack I was naked in my parents bed with no clothes in sight.
"You go try to find my life. I'm going to put this place together so we can speedrace to work."After I did the morning necessities, minus the shower because that's overrated when you're hungover, Lynn gave me a stare down. She found the evidence of my night.
"Brace-face is downstairs. Naked. Your clothes are nearby."Well, crap. Apparently I hooked up with a Wood Harris lookalike with braces, and wanted nothing to do with him after the deed was done. I did not see any condom wrappers, but I did notice that Britney was starting to feel a little sore from whatever workout went down the night before. The only thing I could really be thankful for was the lack of white evidence in my parents' bedroom. That could be awkward.
There was no time to ask any further questions.
"Yo dude. Get your ass up, get dressed, and get out! I'll text you later. Bye!"*Sometimes it feels good to give the guy treatment.*
Once we were sure everyone was out of the house, we threw on our "COUNSELOR" t-shirts and ran straight for the kickball fields once we were at work. As the alcohol-infested sweat dripped off both of our faces and the sweet aroma of intercourse came from our lady flowers, I was sure we were the best role models these kids would ever have.
I was even more sure of it when we later had two very "fun" text message conversations later that day:
"So, what'd you do last night? If you're not getting too crazy tonight, I'd love to take you out to dinner. -Mister M"
"Great to meet you last night, Lynn! Maybe we can spend some more time on someone else's living room floor in the future! ;)"
