a woman comes into your house with a Tupperware container of cookies and says, “Is this Jenny’s Christmas party?!” Instead of Jenny’s Christmas party, she has entered a disheveled room of girls passed out, feet in the air, wearing ugly Christmas sweaters and reindeer antlers. Needless to say, she jogs out the door.
you sit up in your bed at night drinking a beer while two of your best friends bang in the room over, which does not have an actual door, and listen in fascination while commentating to yourself regarding the progression.
you and your boy make a drunken late night run to 7/11 and end up walking home with and befriending a little Hispanic man from the neighborhood who you tell over and over in Spanish that he’s attractive and you love him, and he continues to hug you repeatedly and say that you two are his hot best friends.
you realize you’ve forgotten all your luggage on the Fung Wah bus, run your fastest after the bus as it’s pulling onto the highway screaming, “STOP, BUS!” while holding your boobs and flailing, run to the bus terminal front desk and try to relay to them what’s happened, panting uncontrollably because you never run that much, and they stare at you apathetically and point to a pile of forgotten baggage that the driver had set aside.
you’re riding the Fung Wah and the bus driver pulls over on the side of the highway and silently makes his way to the back of the bus with his gloved hands calmly held together. He then proceeds to take a shit in the bathroom for a good 7 minutes or so while you, seated right next to the bathroom door (that has been swinging open and hitting you the entire ride), block your nose in shock.
you and your friend stop into Duane Reade late at night so you can buy a sympathy card and use the bathroom, and after repeatedly telling the cashier that you want a sympathy card and not a gift card, you are led into the back room for employees only, escorted to the private bathroom, and kissed on the hand before departing.