I suppose technically I am the one who started it.
A few weeks ago I went out for a drink one Saturday evening with a friend. After that drink I was going to go home, but on the way to my car I ran into a couple of other friends. As a result that one drink turned into quite a few drinks. After my third or fourth shot of Ouzo, one of those friends asked me where Mr G was.
As far as I knew Mr G was at home, so at 1:15am, in my infinite drunken wisdom, I decided to call him up and ask him if he wanted to join the party at the local watering hole. Luckily he was still up and although he didn’t come out to the bar that evening, the next day when I profusely apologized for drunk dialing him, he just smiled and said it was no big deal.
Fast forward to tonight (or early this morning): I was enjoying a quiet night at home watching a movie and stitching away when at 12:45am the phone rang. It was Mr G. Although he claimed he had just called to chat, the time of the call made me suspect it was his turn drunk dial me.
And sure enough, after chatting with him for forty-five minutes about everything from the weather to politics he finally confessed that he had had a “couple” of beers and I was indeed the recipient of a drunk dialing.
Meari says:
LOL “Drunk Dialing”… I’ll have to remember that term. I’ve been the recipient of a couple of those dials.
3 November 2008 at 10:07