Put on your dancing shoes Sally. We're going out.

Last night was an epic night of drinking and fun with some friends. What made it better is that it was completely unexpected for me. Yesterday was my friend Ashlie's 21st birthday (first sip of alcohol, if you're dumb enough to believe that) and they threw a party for her at a local nightclub. I'd been thinking that I was working this morning, so I had only planned on hanging out for an hour or two, then heading home. Turns out I had to work this afternoon, which meant I had plenty of time to recuperate this morning, and every reason to drink like a sailor on shore leave last night. Which I did. "Wasted" ain't the word--I drank myself retarded last night. JT picked me up on her way home from work and we warmed up with some drinks at her place while she got dressed. We then headed out to "our" spot (the bar at Chico's downtown) where we pre-gamed some more. JT ordered a ridiculously large sangria, which made me think, "When you're drinking something called a Sea Of Sangria, you know it's going to be a long night." I had my usual beer, and things were off to a roaring start. After an hour or so, we left for the club and things really swung into high gear. There was free beer in honor of Ashlie's birthday, but after a couple of those, I got a taste for vodka 'n tonic, and that's about when the night started getting fuzzy... I recall dancing to Pitbull's song "Calle Ocho" (that shit is the hotness), and doing the Cupid Shuffle with a stage full of people, but beyond that I really can't give many details. Things got a little clearer when we left the club and headed to one of downtown's favorite nightime eateries, Omar's. Omar makes a mean cheeseburge pita, but last night I was in the mood for something more traditional, so I ordered the Athenian. I think it might have been because his (young) son was working the cash register, but I wound up not paying for my food. JT was told her total was $6, and I was prepared to pay something resembling that. I had my pita in hand, and decided I needed something to wash it down. I asked the kid for a canned soda and asked him what I owed him. "$1" was his response. I realized quickly that he wasn't aware I'd not paid for my pita, and just chose not to enlighten him. After eating our food (including the last few bites we ate outside for some reason) we apparently decided it would be a good idea to call George and leave him a profane message cursing him out for not joining us downtown...even though I don't think we actually invited him. He replayed the message for me this morning, and I sounded like a total jackass. Nice. Apparently the oddity didn't end once I was safely home. I woke up this morning fully dressed, sleeping on the floor under my computer desk. I don't know if I was worried about earthquakes, or if I was just having a good old fashioned air raid drill. I just don't know. Now that I think about it, the phrase "I just don't know" really seems to sum up my night.

The Binge Drinkers' Prayer

Lord protect me from the babbling slurring moron I'm about to become. Watch over me as I slowly destroy my liver, my bank account balance, and my reputation. Allow me to come home with all my clothes on (or at least with) me. And if I hook up with someone ugly, don't let my friends see me leaving with them. In Jose Cuervo's name I drink. Amen.