What do you mean, I only have $3 left?
Today I woke up so sick that I honestly considered throwing up in my bed because I couldn’t stand the thought of standing up. Even after I ended up heaving in the proper sanitary facility (twice), I was still nauseatingly drunk at NOON. Questions that were addressed this morning: Is it worse to blow off an important training meeting at work or attend said meeting still reeking of alcohol? And how did I spend 40 bucks during a night of free drinks and no cab rides? I decided throwing up in front of my new boss was worse than being a no show, and set down to solve the mystery of the missing money.
Went to a show at the Vic. One band was good. The other was “Tonic.” Bleh. The sound mix was shitty, but most importantly the show was sponsored by Jameson. Jameson Irish Whiskey. Jameson Irish Whiskey who’s my new best friend because they gave away copious amounts of free Irish Whiskey. I like whiskey. Check that…I like FREE whiskey. If I’m paying, it’s still Tanqueray all the way. But free liquor is good liquor.
I went over to Elbo Room before the show ended, ’cause I could give a rat’s ass about Tonic. Many more drinks were consumed. Most of these were purchased for me, but I do remember buying a round of birthday shots for someone. I think that might be where most of the money went. I really don’t want to think about the possibility that I drank 40 bucks worth of gin & tonic all by myself, especially considering that about half my drinks were free.
The other mystery of the night was why I didn’t get laid. By many accounts I was looking devastatingly hot, what with the “fuck me” boots and all. I was praised for my sparkling wit and conversation, the shininess of my hair, the perkiness of my breasts. Seemed a sure thing. From somebody, at least.
After Elbo closed (and that’s MY closing time, not the public’s), I was kidnapped by a few friendly girls, and taken to Tonic’s hotel room. I was declared the “hot chick” they needed to get in to the party. Forget what I said about not caring about the band…Now I was definitely getting booty. Rock star booty. At least, quasi-washed up, sensitive pop guitar rock star booty.
Not to be. While I was propositioned by a guy already sitting in bed with a girl on either side, and got a few (figurative) nibbles, no dice. Or rather, no dick. But I did drink a lot of their beer and got in trouble for smoking in the room. Rock n’ roooooll motherfucker!
Got a ride home, ate half a loaf of bread and some cheese, possibly some olives…since I found olive juice everywhere this morning. Woke up with the idea that vomiting in bed was actually a viable option…you know the rest.
Overall a good time. But I’m still trying to figure out where the money went.