Whoa!

I didn't see that one coming.

Had some friends over for BBQ on Saturday night. They were a bit later than planned on and I started in on the Bombay and tonics a bit too early. Of course, my friends were happy to oblidge and get up to pace as quickly as possible. Needless to say; we had a great meal (I was cooking), as well as got totally faced, blotto, faded, pissed (chose your favorite vernacular). Had a long session of requests for nostalgic 80's tunes over a few card laden drinking games after dinner. Eventually, we decided to go hit the town. After some considerable coordination efforts, we found ourselves at the Bubble Lounge. I B-lined it to the bar for a double-tall maker's and ginger, and this is where thinks start to get foggy. By the time I had relocated to posse again, one them (I think it was Andy) ordered a bottle of Vueve Cliquot and there was glass of champagne waiting for me. I'm sure we danced, talked, people watched, and.......

Huh. Next thing I know, there is a cab driver who is apparently very frustrated with me because I am not rising out of my stupor fast enough for him to get to his next fare. I am low on cash (surprise, we were at a bar in the city), the meter says $15, and can't figure out why my friends weren't splitting the fare with me, since the plan we had laid earlier in the night was to regroup at my house after going out. I do actually remembering arguing a bit with him over the fact that my friends weren't present. Well, that's when the motion sickness (we'll just call it that) kicked in and I had to open the door, lean out the car and lessen the contents of my gastric system. All over the road. Amazingly, this can have a very temporary sobering effect. I came to my senses, realized he was right (I was alone), and paid him with the old debit card. Like I said, that afore mentioned sobering affect was temporary and the next thing I know it was noon on Sunday. I'm in bed half dressed, watch and all (although, I somehow managed to get my contacts out), and I normally sleep sans garments. Very uncomfortable, but I didn't know any better.

After recovering my phone from deep inside the covers of my bed, I discovered messages which confirmed most, if not some, of what I've just told you. The first from 1:20am was Sara, who was very politelty calling on my whereabouts. Thank you for your concern. The second at 1:50am was Chris, bitching me out for ditching everyone at the bar. Oops.

That said, I did not have a particularly productive Sunday. My apologies and thanks to my dinner guests, my liver, the neighbors, and anyone at the lounge I may have...oh, who knows? And finally, thank you to the gentleman who was kind enough to give me a ride home (for $15).