Dear Julia,
Don’t have that Pirate’s Choice.
Yes, Hannah makes it sound super tasty and, yes, all right, pirates are pretty badass, but you don’t need it. You’ve already had a Cosmo and a Pink Lady, not to mention a whole lot of Hannah’s Creekside Lemonade. You're at a good place. Slightly drunk, but still hanging on to that last bit of you that makes smart choices and keeps her mouth shut. Besides, you hate the taste of rum, but if you get it you’ll force yourself to drink it anyway because you don’t want to “waste a drink”. And if you drink all of it? Well, you’re going to get drunk. Not the drunk that you like though. You’ll be drunk. Meaning? You’re going to wake up in your bed at 9am the next day and you’re going to lie, on your face, for a whole minute before you finally ask yourself, out loud, “How did I get here?” And it wont be until you feel the pounding in your head and the jeans hugging your thighs that you realize that you got so drunk last night that you honestly can’t remember getting home. You'll get up, go to the bathroom mirror, and behold the make up smeared under your eyes and the low cut tank top still showing off your cleavage, before quickly returning to your bed because, goddammit, it hurts too much to stand. Then you're going to have a panic attack because you can't find your phone anywhere, only to find it in the shower five minutes later (how it got there, I'm sorry, even I do not know). Then you're going to spend the rest of the day curled up in your roommate's pillsbury dough boy blanket, scarfing down mac n' cheese and oatmeal and anything else to quell your nauseous stomach, feeling like utter shit. Sure, you'll get to spend quality time with your roommates and your cat from hell watching Daria and John Hughes movies, but it'll still be a waste of a day. The only productive thing you'll get done is renewing your library books and you'll do that online anyway, you lazy fuck. Not to mention you can’t remember anything you did and/or said at the bar after drinking only half of that vile, intoxicating drink. For all you know you could have told everyone you're on your period or how that one boy is a douche or how you're oddly attracted to John Lithgow and, quite frankly, I wouldn’t put it passed you. Let’s just pray you didn’t kiss anyone.
So, don’t have that Pirate’s Choice.
Sincerely,
Future Julia
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