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Check out our blog page for party beasts anonymous and hangover survivors!

Adulthood, friendship and adventure

Anastasia Masha

Just For a Quick Beer

It’s the middle of the week, it’s been a sh**ty day, and you’re uninspired to do anything different than admitting your failure by putting on sweatpants and binge-watching The Simpsons Christmas Specials. Then, that funny girl you met at a party a couple of weeks ago texts you. She has tons of juicy news about her life, and she wants to buy you a drink and tell you everything - she knows you two can become great friends. You’d love to ignore her message, pretend you’re just unreachable at the moment, but editing your WhatsApp settings is still on your to-do list and, as a matter of fact, you are a big procrastinator. Also, you remember you made up a lame excuse the last time she called too, and you don’t want to be a snob. “Great, but just for a quick beer, I’d like to get home early”.

The venue you meet at is cool, and the prices are reasonable too. Also, she greets you with a big smile and a hug, and you feel awfully guilty for having thought of her as a big pain in the neck half an hour ago.

She talks a lot, she’s very excited, and you’re happy for her. You’re well-known for being a great listener, so you just nod and intervene only when appropriate. In the meantime that one beer becomes two, and then three. You girls munch on a couple of peanuts, and agree on trying the new cocktail on the menu. Here we go, it’s 1am.

When she asks what’s bothering you, you give her the runaround, but she insists you should let it out, and to encourage you she tells something rather private about her. Just like the beers, one secret becomes two, and then three, and then you get a special cocktail of her worst memories. A couple of hours ago, she was jolly and bubbly like a flûte of Prosecco, now she’s a jug of tears and smudged make up. While you carry her home, she repeatedly tells you how great you are, and how important you are for her, even if you met just fourteen days ago. You hand her to her flatmate, and get home at 3am.

You’re lying in your bed. You know the day after you’ll wake up with a deep desire of a full English breakfast and a new unexpected bestie - you just know too much about her. But that’s ok, after all she’s a very nice girl. Cheers.

Featured illustration: by Daniela Spoto .

This article was submitted by a very talented writer Chiara Maxia. Follow her on Instagram here

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