The Drunk Text

Being known for your less-than-stellar decision making skills is kinda your thing. You’ve made out with plenty of guys who you’ve named by situation rather than by name (Superman from that When I Grow Up mixer…Worm Tongue…Fraternity X Randos 1, 2, and 3…you get the point), and you’re all too familiar with the shot that takes you from being a good time to having difficulty walking or keeping your clothes on in public. But these are minor transgressions comparatively. The misbehavior of which I speak is far worse than all of the aforementioned, because not only did you completely humiliate yourself, there is hard visual evidence to remind you just how humiliating you were. You can’t leave the mockery you made of yourself buried somewhere deep in Blackout Valley where it was born, and was meant to die. Yes, I’m talking about the drunk text.

Before you head out you use one of the following methods to avoid just such an occurrence…

Download the iPhone app: God’s gift to drunk girls. It’s called “Don’t Dial” and the icon is a Martini glass (fitting). It’s literally an app that you just download and it temporarily denies you access to certain phone numbers when you set it up to do so. You can lock it for a certain number of hours (sooo, however many hours it will take you to become sober) or by password (if you want to make it so you just don’t text him first). As long as your friends aren’t dumb enough to fall for your tricks of why they should tell you the password, these are both glorious. So if you have an iPhone, and weren’t already privy to this, you’re welcome. If you still have a blackberry…first of all it’s time to make the switch and give daddy another opportunity to show you how much he loves you, but secondly, and more importantly, you’re going to have to come up with another way.

Delete His Number: Don’t worry, you don’t have to delete it permanently, just when you’re drunk. I would advise against writing it down and putting it in your bedside drawer. If you don’t want to be drunk texting him you definitely don’t want to be drunk texting him from your bed (the home of the majority of your bad decisions). After depriving your fingers of typing away for so many hours they’re just aching to get back at you at this point. The better option is to have a friend save it for you for the night. To avoid familiarizing yourself with his digits SHE deletes all the texts from your phone with him (so you can’t later go back and text the unsaved number), SHE deletes his number from your phone, and SHE enters it into her phone…under a different name (so you don’t “borrow” her phone for just a minute aka pull out your ninja tactics and steal his number back). Drunk you doesn’t stand a chance…unless you have his number memorized.

Try to Trick Yourself: The only options you have left are to have someone babysit you, taking away phone privileges if you seem too texty and mysterious, and to save his name in your phone as something like “THIS MAY SEEM LIKE A GOOD IDEA, BUT TRUST ME IT REALLY ISN’T.” Neither of these is that effective, as I’m sure you know because when you’re drunk “don’t text ever” magically transforms itself into “definitely text now,” but it’s possible to leave your name unscathed with this method.

When you wake up the next morning in your own bed, alone and somehow wearing pajamas, you start to feel a little proud of yourself. When you make your way to the fridge to start chugging Vitamin Water and find no dirty dishes, no empty pizza boxes and no remnants of cheese fries you start to think you’ve somehow managed to escape the night with your dignity intact. And then you take a gander at your phone. You have an unread text from “DON’T DO IT.” He says, “You’re really drunk and you’re not making any sense” at 4:27AM. Drunk you wins again. You take a deep breath before diving into your outbox. What you find is a combination of whining to your Little about some nonsense, fishing for compliments from some ex who’s still in love with you, and what you can only assume is a desperate ploy for the man of the moment to come slay you. Brutal. Welp, you’re probably just going to have to transfer because you can never show your face at this school again. You rack your brain for a solution on how to fix this and there is no answer. I’m here to tell you the best damage control is to just pretend it never happened…until next weekend when you do it again.

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Veronica Ruckh

Veronica (@VeronicaRuckh) is the Director of Total Sorority Move for Grandex, Inc. After having spent her undergraduate years drinking $4 double LITs on a patio and drunk texting away potential suitors, she managed to graduate with an impressive GPA and an unimpressive engagement ring -- so unimpressive, in fact, some might say it's not there at all. Veronica has since been fulfilling her duties as "America's big," a title she gave to herself with the help of her giant ego. She has recently switched from vodka to wine on weekdays. Email her at

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