I'm going to make it a point to refrain from drinking as much as I did on Friday night for at least another week. Let's see, got to the bar at around 6:30, left around 11, maybe. I was torn up. So I left the bar, went meandering back towards the most likely place for my car, found a gyro cart guy on the way, so I walked another 2 or 3 blocks to an ATM, got out some money and headed back to the cart.
On the way, saw my coworker and her boyfriend stumbling somewhere on the other side of the street, so I gave them a shout-out. They wandered over to say hi, since it must have been at least 8 minutes since I'd last seen them, and her boyfriend did a faceplant in the middle of the street. Gold.
After that, I got a gyro and wandered around downtown for a while and ate it. I swear, every block I walked, I was passed by at least 1 cop. Sure I was cool on the outside, my inner dialogue ran something like, "Okay, you drunk fuck, please, for the love of God, walk in a straight line! That's it, follow that sidewalk crack, yes, that's... NO! NO! That's not the way!"
By some miracle I didn't land in the drunk tank, but rather back at my car. I decided I was still too sloshed to drive, so I crawled into the backseat and took a 4-hour nap. Parked in the downtown area on Main Street. I was damn lucky.
Then I woke up, drove home, which I couldn't do for a while because there was a train crossing the downtown district, and I was too groggy/hungover to find the one road that would lead me back home under the tracks. But I got home, slept 3 hours in my bed, then went in to work for 5 hours on Saturday.
I hate myself sometimes. Better go drink.
On the way, saw my coworker and her boyfriend stumbling somewhere on the other side of the street, so I gave them a shout-out. They wandered over to say hi, since it must have been at least 8 minutes since I'd last seen them, and her boyfriend did a faceplant in the middle of the street. Gold.
After that, I got a gyro and wandered around downtown for a while and ate it. I swear, every block I walked, I was passed by at least 1 cop. Sure I was cool on the outside, my inner dialogue ran something like, "Okay, you drunk fuck, please, for the love of God, walk in a straight line! That's it, follow that sidewalk crack, yes, that's... NO! NO! That's not the way!"
By some miracle I didn't land in the drunk tank, but rather back at my car. I decided I was still too sloshed to drive, so I crawled into the backseat and took a 4-hour nap. Parked in the downtown area on Main Street. I was damn lucky.
Then I woke up, drove home, which I couldn't do for a while because there was a train crossing the downtown district, and I was too groggy/hungover to find the one road that would lead me back home under the tracks. But I got home, slept 3 hours in my bed, then went in to work for 5 hours on Saturday.
I hate myself sometimes. Better go drink.
"Okay, you drunk fuck, please, for the love of God, walk in a straight line!"
That is classic wwe have all been there man....those are the nights to cherish not beat yourself up over.