The Great Falafel Fall

Well, my last blog seems to me, after a few months of hindsight, hysterical.

I lasted 7 days on my cleanse. It was more than enough. ...Too bad I drank a couple glasses of wine during the cleanse. I don't think fermented grapes clean out your intestines, MeMe.

So, in an effort to take myself a little less seriously and give myself a break, I post to you the most embarassing of my recent endeavors into late night eating (always a bad idea).

Enjoy...

Excerpt from email on 2/19/2009:

ALSO. Last night, I drunkenly went for falafel.

It gets better.

THEN. With a guilty expression and a small falafel on wheat (adorned with hummus, spicy garlic, red sauce and onions) I stumbled out of the establishment. On my way down the steps, the gods punished me for my drunken eating. I slipped (on what I don't know) and fell, breaking (I think) a bone in my arm and (here it is) landing face down ON MY FALAFEL.

Yes.

I get up. Covered in what looks to be vomit. Couples pass me by, gawking, giggling, laughing outright. I begin to wimper. I call Dan. It went a little something like this:

ME: DAN.
DAN: Yes?
ME: COME GET ME NOW. I'M IN ADAM'S MORGAN. I'M NEAR... *begins to cry* Amsterdam Falafel.
DAN: Okay... Are you alright?
ME: No....waaaaaaaah.....no. I'm not. I had an accident.
DAN: Oh my god. Wait, where are you? Are you ok?
ME: JUST COME GET ME, DAMNIT.

10 minutes later, I get in the car. After a bit of silence, Dan finally says it. "Did you get drunk and go get falafel and then fall down and drop it on yourself?" ....

.....Amazing. My reaction: "SHUT UP, DAN!"

Oh, and ps. What was left of the falafel, smushed between me and the filthy city sidewalks...


......I ate it.