Occasionally I drink one too many vodka grapefruits, which is to say, whenever I do not alternate each with a bucket of water, or consume them with suitable stomach carb-base of an entire tray of tater tots, and perhaps get a little sloshed, which may or may not have occurred at the the SAB wrap party last night. But when this happens, not that it happened last night at all, at least I’m nice about it. Drunk Bekah is kind, over complimentary, sentimental at worst. She wants you to know how amazing you are and how lucky she is to know you. She wants to shout compliments at you and make plans with you to go surfing tomorrow. If you’re black she wants to tell you how much she loves Kendrick Lamar. If you’re a girl of any kind she wants to tell you that you’re beautiful. If you’re her boyfriend:
Drunk Bekah: I wanna tell you something right now. Listen to me. Are you listening?
Drunk Bekah: Are you listening?
Drunk Bekah:….you’re gonna be a really great Dad.
Morrison: I know. You already told me that.
Drunk Bekah: when?
Morrison:….five minutes ago.
Drunk Bekah: well I’m saying it AGAIN.
Morrison: okay….thanks. Hey, let’s get you some advil.
Drunk Bekah: YOU ARE THE GREATEST MAN ALIVEEEEEEE!