I met some people at a friend’s house. We drove a few miles North. We get to an Irish pub. We waited a long time to get drinks at the bar.
We drank. The place was good. The music was good. The drinks were also good.
We walked to the outside patio. We stood for a while… and drank. We finally get a table outside. Back to the bar for more drinks. We drank.
We went back to our table. I text messaged a friend. Some dudes dressed with skirts and bagpipes showed up and played popular Irish songs, I don’t know.
Another friend arrived. I sang a Credence Clearwater song. We drank. I text messaged my friend a second time. I sang a Lynyrd Skynyrd song. I text messaged that same friend, again. I ordered potato soup. It was good.
We encountered a group of friends from work. We took pictures. I text messaged. I walked inside to an area that had couches, a lamp and a small rug. Long line in the ladies bathroom. I went back outside.
I drank… and text messaged the same friend.
The dudes with skirts left. We took pictures. I text messaged my friend again. I saw two guys talking. One of them wearing a really cool green vintage tee shirt. Somehow I found myself talking to those two guys… and we drank.
I text messaged my friend for the fifteenth time. More pictures. We drank.
We left. A friend drove my car. Allegedly (all of this I don’t quite remember saying), I talked about what I like the most about guys while being very descriptive about it. I also supposedly hired my friend, the designated driver, as my official chauffeur from that point on.
I got home and had some quality sleeping time. I woke up the next day (Tuesday) still sleepy and with a sour stomach.
And I wouldn’t trade a second of it.