OP-ED: I Want the Family Sitting Next to Me at This Banana Leaf BYO to Adopt Me, But I'm Afraid I'm Too Drunk to Take Care of the Legal Documents

We were three boat races in. At that precise moment, the isolated table made for drunk Penn kids in the back of Banana Leaf started to feel more like prison than paradise. So, I turn around, look up behind me and there they are: Shannon and Howard. Shannon and Howard are two grown-ass, married adults just trying to eat their Roti Canai and their Pineapple Rice in peace on a Thursday at 6:36 PM. 

We were just a boring group of 19 to 22-year-olds. So, I escaped. I sat myself down next to Shannon and Howard. Shannon and Howard: power couple, foodies, model citizens, and... my new parents? 

I brought a half-empty box of Franzia up to their table as a table-warming gift, so as not to offend the kind couple. And Shannon and Howard killed it. They were down to clown: Shannon poured herself an overflowing glass and Howard even slapped the bag. To them, I represented their lost youth and their college years. To me, they represented my new parents. 

I tentatively broached the topic of adoption after Howard so gracefully slapped the bag for the third time. They just laughed in response and patted me firmly on the back. Howard said, "Dude, we're 30. You're 22. No. We have a 3-year-old daughter. Just no."

I giggled, knowing that Howard loved his silly dad jokes and so I said, "I'm drunk," in hopes that he would respond, "Hi drunk, I'm Howard." This never happened. 

Shannon and Howard joined our stupid BYO and got much too drunk and everything got a touch uncomfy. Parents are so embarrassing! Later that night, Shannon threw up on the still blank legal paperwork for my adoption in our Uber to West Philly. Ugh, Mom is literally the worst when she's drunk!