Bender: A Story of a Bachelorette Weekend | Part II

Nine hours and zero monkey incidents later, I found myself in bed with Carolyn and Sam, texting my boyfriend. It was like an episode of “Gossip Girl,” minus the teenage hormonal bitchiness and the Manolos. Here’s how the texting convo went:

Francie: I made some bad decisions.

Don: Hungover? Jail? Tattoos? Smooth Jazz?

Francie: I passed out at dinner. I also apparently showed my crotch.

Don: To whom?

Francie: Everyone at dinner,

Don: Should I even ask why? Glad we had that talk about decision-making. So…awkward bridal shower coming up.

Francie: To say the least.

Don: Well, good luck, feel better and still have some fun. Maybe aim for “better” decisions since “good” ones seem out of reach on this trip.

Francie: Better decision: Going to McDonald’s.

But let me backtrack a bit, because the conversation didn’t happen that fast. You see, during this text conversation, Sam, Carolyn and I were all in this double bed complaining about how hungry we are. “All I want is a breakfast taco,” Sam said. “Okay, Texas, we call them breakfast burritos here,” I said. “But yeah, I could eat the holy hell out of some breakfast burritos.” Carolyn agreed, somewhat succinctly: “Need food.” The problem was, Kristi was asleep, and anyone who knows Kristi knows full well that if you want to live past the morning, you DO NOT go in there and wake her up. She’s possessed by the devil until she wakes up naturally.

We went back and forth for about 30 minutes talking about how hungry we were. During this time, I discovered a “Beware of Dog” sign in my suitcase. Yeah, I apparently stole a sign on my way home. I was horrified because I figured I had stopped off next door and ripped it off the neighbor’s fence. Luckily for me, Kristi’s hubby was sober when I came home and told me I stole it from Carolyn’s friend Allison. Even better! Man, I’m really good at making first impressions.

After making arrangements to return the sign to its rightful owner, the growls of our stomachs overcame us once again. Sam said, “Man, if only we had a car.” To which Carolyn replied, “Hey, I have a car.” Eureka! We scrambled out of bed, me bra-less with crazy hair and smeared makeup, Carolyn in her shirt from the night before, exchanging a pair of Umbros for jeans, and Sam still in her cute signature Sam pajamas because that’s how she rolls. We’ll call them Samjamas.

So yes, we had a car. Now, who to drive? Francie, still drunk. Carolyn, still drunk. Kristi, sleeping morning demon…and probably still drunk. That left Sam, adorable Sam. Sam who hadn’t driven in five years thanks to a life in NYC and Europe. But how hard could it be, it’s just like riding a bike, right?

With Carolyn by her side like a 10^th grade Driver’s Ed instructor, Sam situated herself in the driver’s seat, checked all the mirrors, started the car and was ready to roll. Well, ready to roll once Carolyn helped her put the car in drive. A few dozen stops and starts later, and we were moving. “It’s just like riding a bike” Sam said cheerily, to which Carolyn responded, “Sam, you need to apply the breaks because that there is a stop sign.” Even hung over, Carolyn remained ever eloquent. And then there they were, the golden arches, glistening in the humid KC air. Tears and fist pumps followed, I’ll let you decide who did what.

We got to the McD’s drive-through and now had to figure out what we wanted. I was looking through all the meals when Carolyn said, “Let’s just get a buttload of burritos.” Brilliant! Sam said, “Well how many? I could do two or three.” I responded, “Three for me, mos def.” So we all decided on 10. Then, to the drinks. “I want a massive glass of OJ,” I said (I had been bitching about needing OJ all morning). Then everyone concurred that OJ was a must. So we got four large OJs. Then Carolyn turned to her right and saw a sign for the new frozen strawberry lemonades. “I want that,” she said. We all looked over and agreed that we should get some of those too. So we ordered two.

We got to the window and ordered, and the total was around $30. $30?!? That’s the most I’ve ever spent at McD’s, but then again, we were all hungry and I’d be damned if I didn’t get some food in my belly pronto. We grabbed our massive bag of burritos, our six drinks and sped on home (okay, not “sped” because Sam drives like a grandma). 

We sat at the dining room table pretending to be civilized, but there was nothing civilized about us. We looked like we had been to Gitmo and back. I dug in and couldn’t seem to get the food in my mouth fast enough. “France, it’s not like you won’t have the chance to eat again,” said Sam. I looked at her, smiled, and continued to eat like the piggies eat. 

Kristi soon exorcised her morning demon and joined us to share in the breakfast fun. She ate maybe one burrito (lame sauce), while Sam and I devoured three each. Carolyn got through 1.5 before she needed to go lie down. Meanwhile, I finished my OJ and decided to try one of the frozen strawberry lemonades. 

Big mistake. It was like lemon-scented floor cleaner mixed with cough syrup, and while that’s gross in itself, being hungover makes it way worse. Like drinking from a toilet, only worse (so I guess that makes us as bad as our dogs and cats). Sam was like, “It can’t be that bad” and took a swig. She choked on it and agreed that the concoction was 100 percent pure nastiness. Of course, Carolyn was now curious, but before she took a sip, she mixed it up. I’m like, “Duh, probably should’ve done that first.” But alas, she tried it and it still tasted like a mouthful of evil. So evil, in fact, that it was probably what put Carolyn over the edge at her shower. But you’ll have to wait for part three to learn about that specialness.