The other Tuesday night, I had a bit of a frustrating day at the office, and invited a coworker to go out with me for a beer. We shared a plate of mussells (where I pulled them from the shell!) and I enjoyed a nice cold Allagash. Then we talked about all kinds of office stuff, and decided that we'll see each other in hell for being so judgemental.
Anyway, so that was beer number one. I then met Heather at the Snug, where we talked about our weekend, etc. One thing led to another and I was on my second Snug beer, which was my third for the night, when Heather decided she shouldn't finish hers because she was feeling sick, so I downed the rest. In no time it was nine o'clock, and two more friends, Darcy and Nick, joined us when their movie got out. We ordered yet another round. I had no dinner, was four beers in, and feeling really, ah, giddy. We were having fun (so I'm told. I don't entirely remember.) Before Darcy and I went up for her second round and my fifth- I kind of wobbled over, I sent quite an inappropriate text message to an inappropriate person. When we sat back down, the bartender followed with my debit card. He closed my tab, cutting me off. It was a Tuesday night, and I got cut off. Granted, I'm a small person, and I had no dinner, but seriously, I felt bad about what I had done until I talked to the same coworker from before. She totally reassured me by saying something along the lines of, it's always a random Tuesday night that that happens. When you go out specifically to get drunk, it never seems to work out.
1 comment:
This reminds of the time that I wasn't going to the Old Port festival. Amigo's RAN OUT OF BEER that night. Well, that's what they said. I think they just cut the whole bar off. On a Sunday. I was just out for a walk. Ask me about the whole story sometime.
Post a Comment