I Like Mushrooms. I think.

My BFF and I have been friends for many years. She knows all my secrets and I'm fairly certain that I know all of hers. There we are! But, I guess that's all kinda irrelevant, so moving on...

A couple of weekends ago, BFF and I decided to go out on the town and have a few drinks. Well a few drinks turned into a lot of drinks. A lot of drinks turned into staying out all night. Staying out all night turned into calling someone to come and pick up our drunk asses.

I honestly don't even remember getting into the car. But I kinda came back into the real world when we pulled into Sheetz. I looked over to see my roommate driving the car that I was riding shotgun in. I was all like "Hey Roomie, what are you doing here?" He just laughed at me and told me to go get some food. And I was like "OMG I'm starving!" And he was like, "I know, you said that 100 times, that's why we are at Sheetz."

So BFF and I get out of the car and stagger into Sheetz. I looked at her more than twice and told her to act like we weren't drunk. She just kept nodding and standing up straighter every time I said it. As if standing straighter would delude people into thinking we weren't actually intoxicated.

Anyways, BFF ordered her food and then came over to supervise me ordering my own. (We still argue to this day about who was more intoxicated that night.) I couldn't really see the MTO menu because everything seemed to blur together, so I covered one eye with my hand and like a freakin' miracle, everything came into focus. (This also works for texting while intoxicated-which, by the way, I highly recommend doing. Everyone loves hearing from you in the wee hours of the morning, especially when they have to decipher your text messages.)

After much deliberation, I ended up ordering a meatball sub with mushrooms and cheese. I hit the Complete Order button and suddenly BFF yells "Wait!"

I froze and my brain automatically said, "There is a gigantic bug on you and if you move it will kill you."

But it wasn't a bug. BFF said in a pretty panicked tone, "You do not like mushrooms."

I relaxed at the fact that there wasn't a bug, but I had to do some pretty serious convincing that I did indeed like mushrooms before she would allow me to pay for my food.

Then, as the cashier is handing my change over (and probably wondering what the hell was wrong with us) BFF says, "I don't think you liiiiiiiike mushrooms."

So I got a little frustrated at all of these crazy accusations of my hate for mushrooms and say in a fairly condescending tone, "I do like mushrooms, honey. It's all going to be okay."

She shook her head and followed me to the counter to pick up our food. The nice lady making our food at 4:30 in the morning handed me the meatball sub and BFF said, "You don't like mushrooms. You aren't going to like that sub."

I rolled my eyes as much as I could in my drunken state and ignored her. Once we were safely in the car, BFF proceeds to tell my roommate that I got a sub that I wasn't going to like. My roommate then jumped on the bandwagon and told me how much I hate mushrooms.

So, naturally, I shouted, "I LIKE MUSHROOMS, DAMN IT!" By this time, my alcohol buzz has started to wear off and all I wanted to do was go home and eat my meatball and mushroom sub.

We finally arrived home after BFF told me TWO times that I should stop somewhere else to get food because she'd 'really hate to see me go hungry.' I unwrapped my delicious smelling meatball sub and took a bite only to promptly burn the hell out of my tongue. I spit the food out and took a big drink. When I looked up through my tear filled eyes, BFF was staring at me with an I-told-you-so look on her face.

So again, I shouted, "I LIKE MUSHROOMS!" To which, she replied by shrugging her shoulders. In other words, she was calling me a liar.

After letting the meatball sub that was causing me more irritation than should have cool, I took another bite. Now, let me tell you, those were the WORST mushrooms I had ever tasted, and I really do like mushrooms. So instead of admitting that I wasn't going to eat the sub topped with rotten mushrooms, I pridefully scarfed the whole thing down in like three bites. And believe me, it was torture.

Fifteen minutes later, I was puking my guts up while BFF stood outside the door saying, "I didn't think you liked mushrooms."

P.S. It could have been the alcohol that induced vomiting. I'll never know.

P.P.S. Our necks really aren't that long, and in real life we have hands and feet.