Like Step Father, like Step Daughter

Woke up (particularly hungover) on Saturday morning to a searing sun burn! The room I had somehow ended up in after my night on the town was bathed in light.

Wondered momentarily if I was dead...

I may as well have slept on a frikken sundeck! Looked around for suncream, or a cap, or zinc... anything!... but instead found a pair of shades conveniently perched on the bedside table, and I covered my body with the duvet to protect it from the rays of fire burning through the so-called 'curtains' – which quite honestly must have been made out of cling wrap based on the job they were doing. The good news is, the person whose room I was in definitely wasn't a vampire. The bad news was I was perspiring profusely, which had left a very questionable wet patch on the sheets that would need an explanation.

This was dehydration beyond compare and I crawled into the bathroom and put my head under the tap. Back in bed, pounding head was quickly intensified by my bbm beeping frantically. Step Daddy was in town. Step Daddy wanted to meet for lunch. Christ. I needed a shower, a freezo, an energade and to get out of this hell pit before I incinerated. Now, where was my car again?

A few hours later, I arrive at Basilico, dishevelled, decrepit, dark rings, liverless etc...

SD: 'Don't you look hot... Big night?'
Me: 'It's that obvious?'
SD: 'Do you feel as bad as you look?'
Me: 'Am hanging like a fruitbat.'
SD: 'Me too. Let's drink through it.'
Me: 'Great minds...'

A bottle of champagne AND a bottle of wine later, we thought it a good idea to perhaps order some food, while both simultaneously avoiding calls from mother...

SD: 'You're driving me home.'
Me: 'And you're Spiderman.'
SD: 'If you do, I'll buy you two bottles of Champagne for your girls' night tonight?'
Me: 'Why didn't you just say so?'

In car, playing Coldplay's 'Paradise' full blast, silver-fox step dad chanting the wrong words out the window... questionable looks from pedestrians... etc

SD: 'Woooooooo. This song is amaziiiiiiing. Turn it up!!!! LOUDER! Para-para-paralysed!!!'
Me: 'It doesn't go any higher. You blew my left speaker 5 minutes ago, remember?'
SD: 'Who sings it? Is he really paralysed?'
Me: 'You went to their concert 2 weeks ago. It's paradise...'
SD: 'It sure is!'

We made it to his place unscathed, after much giggling and stalling, where the man he was staying with offered me yet more wine. I chose life and drove home while I still could.

Good times.