Big City, Big Scaries
By Resting Bitch Face
Scaries are Scaries no matter where you live. We all do dumb shit under the influence: texting the ex, repeatedly calling the slam, or coming out of a blackout having zero clue where you are, where your cell phone is, or where you left your debit card. I once blacked-in post TBOX 2012 and had walked 15 blocks in the wrong direction. I sat on the curb and cried to my brother until he got in a cab to pick me up. This can be kind of dangerous in a city that's often referred to as "Chi-raq." Similarly, my boyfriend in college was so blacked out that he walked three miles outside of campus on a country road and had to hitchhike back. Same shit, different locale. But, I digress. Long story short: there are some major differences between Rural Scaries and Big City Scaries.
Not Having A Car
Having a car in the city can be a total headache and (most of the time) I'm genuinely happy I don't have one. I don't have to pay for parking or circle the block post-work looking like a total peasant. You also don't have to worry about getting your car towed or broken into (lookin' at you, Douchebag Pete). But, the last thing you want to do when hungover is schlep around the city on foot. McDonald's drive-through? You're SOL. And even though we know how to be hungover in public, stepping foot in the 24-hour McDonald's after the bums spent the night there is puke-worthy. Legit, the commingling of fried food and homeless stench will make you dry heave like Tiger Woods. Need coffee, a blue Gatorade, and Advil? You're hoofing it. Want to act like your shit is together and go to the grocery store? The line at Trade Joe's on a Sunday is longer than security at Midway Airport post-Thanksgiving (1.2 miles for those of you who don't read the news).
Depending on what time you finally drag yourself out of bed, you're competing with the mobs of other Scared and hungover 20-somethings on the same mission as you: heading to brunch for a little retox. Be prepared to throw some 'bows to compete for space on the sidewalk. I know some of you are thinking, "ever heard of Uber?" Not possible after 10am. That shit hits rush period quicker than you forgetting the name of your one night stand, if you ever really knew it. Chances are you mistakenly (read: drunkenly) accepted the rush period up-charge the night before and you choose to walk out of pride. Or poverty.
Brunch / Blunch
Big City Brunch is a total shitshow with bottomless mimosas and the shampoo effect both working in your favor. We all know retoxing with a little champs is the best way to continue avoiding reality and reliving the shitripper that happened the previous night. In itself, the act of brunching isn't hard; it's the process leading up to it that just sucks. We already know you have to fight crowds on the sidewalk, but that fight continues while your party waits for a table.
Brunch restaurants are tiny with little-to-no room for people to sit or stand once full. You're shoulder to shoulder with strangers, just sweatin' and regrettin'. All you can smell is liquor and desperation pouring out of your pores. You can't talk to any of your friends because the restaurant is scary loud and, if you're like me, you can't form sentences when you're hungover. The only way to avoid eye contact with the Lily Pulitzer church families who beat you there you is to stare at the food coming out of the kitchen, which only exacerbates the act of your stomach eating itself.
Nobody I know takes public transit over the weekend when they are in an itch to get to the bar - they either walk or take Ubers/cabs. The public transit I'm referring to is the Monday morning commute to work. 8:30am on the red line is pathetic. Everyone spent the previous night tossing and turning trying to find mental toughness to endure another week at work. You're shaking and pale from alcohol withdrawal when you get on the crowded train in the morning.
Once, I actually had a friend ask an elderly lady to give up her seat because he was afraid he might pass out and/or puke. You think this is rock bottom until you're that person that passes out or pukes. My train was once delayed for 25 minutes underground due to a "medical emergency." I quickly found out what was going on when I heard the conductors radio transmit that someone had passed out. Quickly imagine coming to on a packed train car and realizing that you were the person that passed out. Scaries City.
So, for those of you not living in a city, cherish your fresh air and your mobility. For those of you in the city, see you next week at brunch (but not really since I won't be making any eye contact or conversation).