How not to pack

The Scene (Friday Night)

Thrilled to be out of the office during daylight hours, I met friends at a corner bar for post-work drinks. Corona after Corona after Corona on an empty stomach resulted in me putting on a quick buzz. Slightly tipped, we grab dinner at the bar and have more beers.

Post-dinner, we venture uptown for a roof-top party. At the house party when I play beer wench, I am rewarded with a shot of tequila from the kitchen crew. Now in full-on party mode, I return to the rooftop where I proceed to start a conversation with Date Night Boy that probably is best had sober. (That my friend’s is a story for another time.)

As the house party becomes rambunctious, we return downtown to meet up with our friend’s girlfriend. Next thing I know, I’m at the Maritime Hotel where someone tosses down their credit card for everyones' drinks. A couple vodka tonics with lime juice, leads into tequila shots, leads into dancing, leads into yet another round of shots.

Then it hits me… I have an 8am bus to catch for a family get-together in Boston. Checking the clock (3:30am) I realize that I’ll never remember to pack or get up without someone to remind me. Enter Date Night Boy. I invite him back to my house with clear instructions that I am to pack before we go to bed. AND he is responsible for making sure I don't sleep through my alarm.

This is a terrible plan mind you, I know that now.

The Scene (Saturday Morning)

8:30am, I wake up to my phone ringing where my sister bawls me out for missing the bus. I jump out of bed and grab the suitcase that I had packed the night before. Catch the 9am bus, I figure all is fine.

The Scene (Saturday Afternoon)

I meet my family and they all rag on me: “We didn’t really expect you to make the 8am bus.” As we start to get ready for the Boston Red Sox evening game, I go to my room to change out of my shorts and into my jeans. I open my bag to find the following contents:

- 9 Shirts (4 Tank Tops, 3 Long Sleeved Shirts, 2 Sweaters)
- 3 Bras
- Make-up Bag

What’s missing from my bag: underwear, toothbrush, and jeans.

You can only image the scene when I told the fam that we need to make a small shopping excursion before the game because I didn't pack any jeans. Oh yeah, I don't think I'll hear the end of it.