Ok, so I may be exaggerating just a tad bit, but I definitely felt like Alexander felt the whole day of his happenings; nothing could go right. It was Saturday night and Z and I were going to the Tiesto concert at the Staples Center. We had suite tickets as it was also a work event. The suite was just as expected and I was having a good time for the whole first five minutes before I decided I wanted to leave. So let me back track a bit.

We were supposed to have dinner with some clients prior to the event which started at 7 but were running late so decided to go straight to the Staples Center only to find out that the concert went on until midnight (we thought it ended at 10)! I was starving and really wasn’t looking forward to nachos (although on most days they’re my favorite) and chicken tenders. House music, which is what this sounded like to me, was entertaining for a while before we all came to the conclusion that it sounded like the same song being played over and over again with flashing lights going around the stadium (no glow sticks allowed)! Having little to entertain ourselves with, I proceeded to talk to our guests who began to feel like they were too old for the concert (they are in their late twenties!) as the only appropriate thing to do was to fist pump and move your hands around with your imaginary glow sticks. I hung out a couple hours before I let Z know I was ready to go, to which he responded ” stop being such a mommy”…in his defense he was joking but I was a bit irritated and still hungry. I composed myself and politely asked we go home again.

As I’m sitting down having a conversation with our guests, a full glass of cold contents spill all over me. I dry myself off, and ask Z if we can go home. To his defense, again, he missed the whole drink spilling scene. I continue my conversation and down goes another drink. This time it’s not cranberry juice, its a clients whiskey glass. I hate the smell of whiskey. I had witnesses both times and none of us could understand what was going on. This time however Z saw the entire thing, helped me clean myself off and said his goodbyes so we could start heading home.

On our way out I remind him I’m till hungry so we proceed to go to a local diner that’s supposed to be very good. As we are walking towards the diner, Z changes my name to Patricia to which my friends respond with confusion…I quickly clarify to all that my name is indeed Karla and not to worry, Z is not going crazy he has simply gone back in time.
 
                                                 

We would have shared a meal in silence had it not been for my amazing friends who cleared the air. We finally get home and we go to bed in silence. I wake up at 3:00 am running towards the toilet with an intense urge to throw up. Z is in the other restroom. Our friends are also not feeling too good (I find out the next morning). Yes, you guessed it, food poisoning from the only thing we shared that evening, my favorite, pancakes.

P.S. I forgot to mention I woke up the next morning with a sore throat.