I pulled a Sheila

Geoff is keeping me very entertained today with his crabby, hungover mood, and constant calls for assistance.

Evidently, Geoff "pulled a Sheila" last night and is paying the price today. And while being in such a lovely condition, he decided loading up his new laptop with the necessary software and drivers is a good idea. I'm not so convinced being that I am his personal help desk technician, who he doesn't pay crap to put up with his attitude while providing great support. (LoL, feel the love, Geoff-geoff, feel the love)

Geoff and I met a few years back and the first time we went out, it was, of course, a drinking adventure. With our love of Vodka and the lack of things to do in Springfield, IL, we went on a pub crawl, drinking a Vodka-tonic or two at each of our stops. The last of our stops of the day landed us in a nice little corner bar where the bartender would hand-stuff the bleu cheese olives. (For all of you that just went Ewwwww, I'm right there with you.) Geoff happens to love a good vodka on the rocks garnished with a few bleu-cheese stuffed olives; he, also, believes that everyone else should love them too. I can tell you he is wrong in this belief (and now I think he finally agrees with me). Being the good sport I am, I tried one of Geoff's olives knowing I have never cared for the taste of olives or bleu-cheese. I managed to swallow without gagging the putrid thing back up and promptly washed it down with another vodka on the rocks.

After bantering for awhile about baseball and which team is better the Cards or the Cubs and placing a few wagers on the season's final outcomes. Geoff and I decided we drank more than our share of vodka for the day and maybe it was time for a break for a bit before dinner. Off to the hotel room we went, Geoff, unfortunately, beat me into the bathroom. While waiting my turn, I kicked back in the bed only to realize I was too drunk to lay down. My world started spinning and I couldn't get the legendary trick of the foot on the floor before I started hurling all over the bed and floor and eventually blacking out.

Waking up hours later in the bathtub, I realized Geoff was talking to my Mom of all people on the phone. First question out of my mouth is "Why is my mother calling you?" and then, hearing the concerned conversation I start blurting out, "I'm fine, Mom...just acted stupid and drank too much." Then, I had to explain to her, my sister, my ex-husband, and my friend, Jack that I was OK...and, no, they did not know Geoff, but I was completely safe...and, no, I will not tell you where I am...and, no, you cannot come and get me. UGH.

Needless to say, that was the night "pulling a Sheila" was coined. Anytime, Geoff or anyone he knows drinks to much into a puking oblivion, I get called and told about who "pulled a Sheila" this time. I'm glad I made my mark in history, or not.