Thursday, April 15, 2004
I awoke bright and early this morning -- that is, eight o'clock. No hangover, and I remember everything that went on last night. True, details are a little fuzzy, but the point is, I remember.
A good time was had by all. Micki, Leah and I met up with my co-workers Jon, Chris and Leslie at Vespaio's, where I had fantastic Italian food and about half a bottle of good red wine (they kept filling up my glass for some reason, and not their own... gee, I wonder why). The tiramissu left something to be desired, but overall the food was the best I've had since Italy.
Micki had to leave the restaurant early to go to work, Celeste joined us after dinner, and Leah left before we went to the club. We drove to 5th Street and went to Red Fez, where we really didn't do much of anything except sit around and talk. The atmosphere was pretty laid back, which was fine with me. I had a couple of cozmos and was quite happy drinking that. Then John, one of our regular customers, showed up to wish me a happy birthday.
"Augh! Why are you drinking the wussy drinks?" he asked.
"I like the wussy drinks!" I said. "I don't want to taste the alcohol."
"I'm going to get you a real drink," said John. I tried to stop him, or talk him into considering a chocolate martini a "real drink". He returned with bourbon and Coke.
"There," he said, handing me the drink. "That's a real drink."
I tasted it. Let's just say that's the closest I came to throwing up the entire night. And the terrible part was, they made me finish it.
"It's better than the sweet crap," John said. "It'll get you messed up but it won't make you sick!"
Um, yes. Thank you, o wise one.
It was true, though: after that, I was a lot less capable of, say, making it to the restroom without stumbling into a wall. For the record, I consider it a miracle that I did not fall up or down any stairs. I mean, stairs are enough of a hazard when sober, much less when I'm starting to have trouble with depth perception.
What I wrote last night about my mental capacity was pretty true, though. My motor skills were shot, but I could still talk normally and make clever jokes. I even had a great discussion about art with Jon. It was an extremely odd experience.
I was taken home around two in the morning and spent a little quality time sharing my state with my sister -- and, of course,with the world through my little drunk post (which I composed mostly for Micki's benefit). Then I crashed.
So, yeah. That was fun. A successful birthday, indeed.
| 9:55 AM |
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