The following happened to me a few days ago. I'm still recovering.
I woke up in an apartment, not mine, definitely not mine, in the midst of many passed out peers and vomit. Infamous red cups were strewn around the floor. I remember going to a party at my friends house, but that was pretty much it. Maybe it was the hookah. Maybe there was something in there.
My eyes were still adjusting to the haze and brightness.
"Oh, you're up," said a girl, "That was amazing, I don't usually do chicks but… hey, where are your glasses?"
"What? First off, who are you? and second off, my eyesight is just fine. I don't wear glasses! Ow!"
"You were the life of the party, man."
I noticed I was wearing a man's pinstriped suit, instead of the dress I wore that night. I buttoned it as I walked down the stairs.
"Hey, man," said a guy as he was walking up the stairs.
"Thanks for bailing us out for the noise complaint. Smooth-talking the cops, it was epic, man!"
"Uh, you're welcome," I said.
"Wait, what's wrong with your voice?"
"What do you mean?"
"It was deeper last night. It was like you had a man voice, almost."
My little sister would tease me about my deep voice, but my voice being described as male was shocking.
"I sound like a man?"
"Not today at least. Sounded dead sexy, though."
I just kept walking. Downstairs, out of the apartment building, past the drug store, were I was greeted by a group of sorority girls, carrying containers of blue hair dye.
"Oh my god, it's her!"
"We're going to dye your hair like yours'. It's going to look so cool!"
"Wait, what's with your hair?"
"Did you dye it back?"
"How did you get that streak back to its natural color?"
"If her hair isn't dyed then neither should we. Let's return it, girls."
Girls wanting to put blue streaks in their hair. Weird. I thought is was blonde streaks that were popular.
"Hey blue eyes," said a guy riding his skateboard by, "wait, where are your blue eyes?" he said has he crashed his skateboard into a stop sign.
I walked further and further, back to my own apartment.
"Konnichiwa!" said a girl who lived a few floors below me, "I had no idea you could speak Japanese."
"I don't."
"At the party last night, silly. You spoke it at the party."
I could barely even speak Japanese. I just kept walking. I finally unlocked my door. I decided to go back to sleep, then wake up and get some coffee. Damn, I had a midterm that week!
As I took off that pinstriped suit I was wearing to change into my pajamas, sand fell out of my pants and onto the floor.
"Mind if I reel you in?" I heard a voice say.
"Who's there?" I asked.
It must have been something in the hookah. Because beer doesn't do that to me. I was too tired to think, and too tired to clean the sand off my floor. I lied in my bed, closed my eyes, put my arm over my eyes, and went to sleep.