An Exercise in Parallelism

One thing I love about our world is that it is always presenting us with new opportunities and discoveries every day. Once such discovery was recently made by yours truly, and it involves two slightly normal events that are quite different in action yet shockingly similar in nature: the drunken one-night stand and the hungry trip to the grocery store.


Before I begin the chronicling of these two sagas, allow me to set up the situations. First: you’re out looking to have a good time with a few friends and some drinks (note: for a full understanding of this scenario one requires both friends and the financial potential to purchase drinks. I’m just trying to make it easier for you guys) and you come across a less-than-Beyonce-esque figure that you mistake for either a far more attractive woman or, depending on just how many ill-fated trips to the bar you make, Beyonce herself. From there, your night involves a lot of emptiness with a little blurriness and throw-uppyness in between.

Situation number two: you sleep through your alarm and thus start the day a little out of sync. You’re not really feeling too hungry in the morning, which is quickly becoming the afternoon, so you go for a little jog, which quickly becomes a little jog that you regret. You get home, relatively starving (like a kid at his last house on Halloween wearing a costume too elaborate to allow for walking candy intake) at this point but still far from calling up the World Food Programme, and realize your refrigerator is virtually empty save for some cottage cheese, salsa, Gatorade and a quarter gallon of milk. Unless you’re a wizard with the blender, it’s time for a grocery store run. You shower, change, hop in your car, curse at the traffic and finally arrive at your selected food haven wondering when you had your last meal and why things are starting to look blurry. Let’s begin…

Situation 1 –  10:45 PM – after a few drinks you can’t remember and some shots whose names you can’t pronounce, you’re starting to feel good.

Situation 2 – 2:05 PM – after a few aisles of snacks you’ve never seen and flavors you never really understood (mesquite?), you’re starting to feel good.

Situation 1—12:00 AM—okay, you’re drunk. You’re so drunk that you start telling yourself in your head that you’re drunk, and slowly those thoughts become mumblings to yourself. What the hell are you doing? And why did you just ask the bartender “what the hell are you doing?”

Situation 2—2:15 PM—okay, you’re a homeless man. You’re so hungry that you start eyeing the weird meats like olive loaf and head cheese and you wonder why you hadn’t tried them before, and slowly those inclinations become realities when you toss the Oscar Meyer-rejects into your cart. What the hell are you doing? And why does that Venezuelan kid look so delicious?

Situation 1—1:17 AM—you found her. Not “the one”, but “the one who has had as many Ginrumtequila Tonics as you have and wants to go home with you”. Awesome.

Situation 2—2:27 PM—you found it. Not “the chips”, but “the chips with enough conflicting flavors and pictures of the actual chips on them to make their way into your cart”. Awesome.

Situation 1—1:32 AM—things are getting good (from your, I mean Jack Daniels’, perspective) in the cab home. So good, in fact, that you don’t realize that you gave the driver directions to the house you grew up in, which is located approximately four hours away. You quickly flip things around with a jumble of words you hope sounded logical enough for the cabby to understand, and you’re on your way.

Situation 2—2:46 PM—things are getting good in line at the cash register as you snag all your last-minute Reese’s Pieces and Tic Tacs. So good, in fact, that you don’t realize you gave the cashier your credit card when there’s no way your bank account can take the $400+ hit you’re about to give it. You quickly flip things around by not giving a shit and vowing not to return to the grocery store (or the mall, or the gas station, or anywhere) for a year, and you’re on your way.

Situation 1—1:45 AM—it’s time to indulge in your winnings. You’re not quite sure how it happened, but you’re getting laid and you know you probably won’t remember it in the morning. After the fact, you promptly fall asleep (surely she does the same) and await the morning’s surprises.

Situation 2—3:18 PM—it’s time to indulge in your purchase. You’re not quite sure what you bought, but you’re stuffing food in your mouth (and a little change that was caught in the fray) and you know you probably won’t leave the bathroom for the rest of the night. After the fact, you promptly fall asleep covered in your own sweat and filth and feel more satisfied and disgusting than you ever have before.

Situation 1—11:26 AM—what were you thinking? You don’t want to feel shallow, but your “date” smells like something that had lived in a hamster cage at one point and her t-shirt, which was carelessly tossed on the ground, reads “Ho-Town” in rhinestones. And you only picked it up because before you saw the word you thought it was yours. You check the label. Men’s large. The name on the tag reads “Bertha”.

Situation 2—4:52 PM—what were you thinking? You don’t want to feel like John Goodman, but your “shirt” smells like something that had been immersed in every garnish in existence and the food packages, which were carelessly tossed on the ground, read “king size” on every one. And you only began picking them up because you couldn’t see the floor anymore. You check the label of one box. 24-pack of Kraft Macaroni and Cheese. It’s empty.

Situation 1—11:54 PM—Bertha awakes and you do your best to shuffle her out of your house. Her caveman noises and consistently unpleasant behavior come across as some sort of indication of unhappiness with your decision, but you can’t be sure. Once she’s gone, you return to the scene of the crime where you promptly discard all remnants of the night and conspire to set fire to your bedroom. Unfortunately, your thin budget wouldn’t allow for redecoration. Oh well.

Situation 2—5:10 PM—you do your best to alleviate your home of all the foolish food products your purchased in your starvation-fueled haze. The tubs of Ben and Jerry’s Doughnut Chunk Double Fudge Ice Cream and Extended Family Size bags of Ranch, Bacon and Nacho Cheese Doritos come across as some indication that you have a problem, but you can’t be sure (you’re pretty sure). Once everything’s cleaned up, you sit quietly and contemplate ways to discard all remnants of your afternoon and conspire to relieve yourself in many different ways in the bathroom later on. Unfortunately, your thin budget wouldn’t allow for liposuction. Oh well.

            

So you see, there is magic in the world. Every day new discoveries like this are being made—mostly more effective discoveries that contribute far more to society, but discoveries nonetheless. I only hope I could teach some lessons with my wisdom and that you use any information you gain from this study to make me very, very rich. I really need to burn down my bedroom and get some liposuction.