Befuddled

Today's writing prompt comes from Sunday Scribblings.

I'd had way too much to drink. That was the only thing I knew for sure. My mind was far too jacked up to make sense of anything else.

It had been a long week. No, it had been a long month. It seemed like it was just one thing after another with me. And I don't usually give in like this. I don't turn to alcohol to make myself feel better when I'm down. Because, let's be honest, it really doesn't make me feel any better.

The drinks didn't make the girlfriend that dumped me come back. They didn't cause that promotion I missed to suddenly fall in my lap. What the alcohol did do for me was cause me to make poor decisions. It also gave me an incredible lack of impulse control.

I wasn't drinking alone. I wasn't that pathetic. But after my buddy encouraged me to down my fifth shot of tequila, it's all blank.

I woke up the next morning in a jail cell, my head pounding away. It hurt so bad, I wished I could just close my eyes and black out all over again. Sadly, I knew that wasn't an option.

The guy sharing the cell with me wasn't my friend. I had no idea who this person was or why he was slumped, unconscious, against the toilet. Well, I could assume why he was slumped against the toilet. Reasons I'd rather not think about.

I tried to piece the night together in my befuddled mind, but the pieces were out of reach.

"Jesse Monroe?" called a voice from the other side of the bars. I winced at the sound of my own name, the noise felt like a shockwave.

I stood, slowly, carefully, and walked toward the corridor. "You made bail." The voice came from a cop that I couldn't have recognized if I'd tried. Behind him stood my ex-girlfriend, Tess. Yeah, she's the one that just dumped me.

"What are you doing here?" I asked her as the door to my cell slid open.

"I was your one phone call," she said. She was having a lot of difficulty making eye contact with me. "I guess you don't remember?"

"Last night is a blur. Look, you didn't have to come. I'll pay you back for this, I promise."

"Jesse, don't worry about it. Just go home and sleep it off," she said, finally looking at me.

I looked right back into her eyes, wishing I had something profound to say. I wished I could somehow convince her to take me back. Walking out of the drunk tank wasn't exactly the best place to win her affections, I knew. "Thanks, Tess," was all I could say.

"If you want to thank me, just do me one favor."

"Anything," I said, becoming over-excited for a moment.

"Lose my number." And with that, she walked away from me.

I was left standing alone in a dimly lit hallway inside the police station, feeling worse than I had the night before when I decided that hitting a bar with my friends was such a great idea.