It’s that time in the semester when you realize how much more you like drinking and football compared to the commitments you actually made. Whether these commitments be of the academic, ladyfriend, or employment variety, it’s become painfully obvious from your distracted demeanor, amount of stained clothing, and general musk of blood and booze that you prefer alcohol over all of them. With alcohol, it’s a beautiful, open, and comfortable relationship you have; you’re both swept head over butthole from such effortlessly mutual compassion. The only trouble is that your boss, your fellow group project members, and your university’s substance abuse counselor are relentlessly trying to drive a wedge between you two lovebirds and your unconventionally progressive lifestyle.
Enter the fake family set of excuses: the never-ending well of fabricated obligations to get you out of anything and everything. Weekend teleconferencing, mandatory community service outings for work, your suite mate’s intervention, if you possess the determination and gumption to lie your way out of them to go get trashed of Kool-Aid mixed with an eleven-dollar half gallon then the sky’s the limit.
The key to the fake family excuses in order to free up sloppy-drunk time is to, ironically, not be sloppy. A web of lies and fictional relatives needs to be organized and kept straight. It should come off naturally. Practice if you need it but absolutely destroy any evidence. With discipline and drive, you’ll delve into the fictional stories passionately and attentively, much like a competent lover. Careful though, much like yummin’ up some sweet poon, if you’re trying too hard everyone’s going to notice and then they’ll be walking away embarrassed and upset.
You want to shoot that intoxicating mixture of believably vague and still unverifiable. Something like “Sorry, can’t make it. My aunt broke her hip” is plausible and there’s enough seriousness there to justify your absence. However, it’s still hazy enough that any friends aren’t going to think it’s weird that they never see said faux aunt. Plus, it’s not totally tragic enough where any normal person would ask for proof, of actual death or your sadness, the way they might with a funeral.
Further, the broken-hip situation’s not bizarre enough to warrant follow up questions. If you had said, “My aunt broke her hip. It was a crazy polo accident, three good horses and two good polo mallets had to put down after that crash,” though, people would have questions. You just had to made the story too interesting, you attention whore. Goddamnit, all you needed was passably-reasonable, but that wasn’t fun enough for you and now you’re watching your entire Don Cheadle-esque House of Lies crumble.
Still though, you do have to aim high enough so it appears like a justifiable crisis. The excuse “The dad in my cousin’s Sims family blew his brains out and now my cousin’s totally sad and wants to go to IHOP” is likely not going to be enough to merit you being able to get out of a work dinner or a horrendously objectionable couples brunch.
The family excuse is like a trump card when played right. And, really, are the bossy individuals you know honestly going to say you shouldn’t tend to the family, the very family they believe is real? What kind of horrible MonStars would they be if they didn’t let you go? Keep your lies straight, your loose ends tied, and let the dishonesty pour out of your hot mouth so you can let alcohol pour into it.
Justin Gawel is an adult baby from Michigan whose articles appear on BroBible most Thursdays and some Tuesdays usually. Look for more of his writing, his BroBible.com archive, and his updates at www.justingawel.com or follow him @justingawel on Twitter.