New Year, No Memories

I think it is time that I tell my most amusing (in retrospect) New Year's Eve story. Several years ago Afshin and I went to a New Year's Eve party at the apartment of a friend. I looked cute (a dress that I hadn't expected to fit did), one of my dearest friends was in town and present, and the Champagne flowed freely. Suffice it to say I overindulged. Feeling, as I did, pretty bloody wasted, I retreated to an unoccupied bedroom and inelegantly passed out on the bed. Eventually Afshin decided that it was time to go home and went to collect me. He succeeded in rousing me and told me it was time to go. I tried to push past him.

"I have to go tell Afshin we're leaving," I said.
"I am Afshin," he responded.
"No, I need to tell Afshin," I insisted.
He played along. "Okay, if I'm not Afshin, who am I?" he asked.
I looked at him blearily. "You're the bathtub."

Upon that delirious declaration, he opted to leave me unconscious a while longer. After recounting my predicament to our host, Afshin decided to check on me again, just in case.

"I'll be right back," he said. "I have to go make sure my girlfriend's not trying to have sex with your bathtub."