One night I went out and got drunk and I ended up going home with a girl who looked QUITE A BIT better that night than the next morning. I am honestly baffled as to how a woman can put on 30 pounds in one night of sleep.

I wake up and cannot remember her name. But I am smooth and I know the drill, so I go find her purse in the living room, look through it, contemplate stealing some money, find her drivers license and see the name. Mission accomplished.

Tucker "Well, good morning Stacey."
Girl [A look of confusion] "Who is Stacey?"
Tucker [Now I am confused] "Uhhh, that would be you."
Girl "My name is not Stacey."
Tucker [I think she's fucking around, so I play along] "OK, and my name isn't Tucker."
Girl "No, your name is Tucker, you showed me your fucking book last night."
Tucker [Fine bitch, you want to play ball--batter up] "Well your name is Stacey, because that's what's on your driver's license."

She looks at me with an expression that can only be described as 'utter contempt.' She gets up, and much to my shock and confusion, picks up a completely different purse off of my desk, digs through it, and throws her drivers license at me. Her name is indeed not Stacey.

She dressed quickly. It was awkward and confusing, even for me. Well, confusing more than awkward. You have to actually have this thing called 'guilt' to feel awkward.

It all became clear after this phone conversation with TheRoommate:

Tucker "Dude, did you have a girl over last night?"
Roommate "Yeah."
Tucker "Oh shit...Dude, why did you do that? You NEVER bring girls home.
Roommate "What? What are you talking about?"
Tucker "Was that her purse on the ottoman?"
Roommate "Yeah--Don't tell me you took money out of it."
Tucker "NO! What was her name?"
Roommate "Stacey."

Posted by at 11:39 PM

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