Last Night...

...I got drunk. No surprise there. But where I got drunk is a surprise. A bar. That's right kiddies, the ball and chain let me go out. Big mistake.

So I get back from work last night late, around 6:30 or so. On my way home, I pick up FatBastard and a bottle of booze. I get cleaned up, and we warm up; by sharing a 1/5 of my favorite whiskey, Monarch Reserve. With that under our belts, we head to the bar.

Arriving at the bar, FatBastard felt the need to tell me that he was drunk already. This is not good. This means I have to babysit and play pretend in order to procure more beverages from the already suspicious bartender. I saunter off to the bar and get us a couple glasses of miracle. FatBastard begins to show interest in the shuffleboard table, so I explain how the game is played. He is confused, but agrees to a match. Not long into our fun, two large-breasted (read:kryptonite) women approach us.

"Hey, whatcha doin'?" the nicer looking one says.

"Building a rocket," I reply, carefully studying her boobs.

"What?" she says, totally fucking lost.

"Playing shuffleboard. You got game?" (I am so urban it's scary)

So the two of them make introductions and we start playing. It seems that we cannot come to an agreement on the rules of the game. LeadBitch starts talking all of these bullshit rules, like I was trying to pass a bill in congress. SecondBitch is retarded, playing with the wax on the board.
After a few minutes (literally) I am bored and disgusted with the two of them. They start making comments like, "Gee, I'm thirsty." I knew it. They were fucking drink-hounds. Out to scavenge free drinks. I quickly tell them I'll be right back. I proceed to buy drinks for me, and FatBastard. And only us. This does not please the scavengers. LeadBitch goes to get drinks, and SecondBitch follows. They do not return.

I find which direction is east and begin to give thanks in prayer.

I then start kicking FatBastard's ass in every single game we play. I almost felt bad for him. Shuffleboard, Foosball, Ping-Pong, Pool. The kid has no bar talent. After that merciless beating, I go ahead and buy him a drink. I notice that the Bitches are sitting at the bar. They smile and wave, appearantly not remembering that they abandoned a game of shuffleboard, a hell-worthy sin in my book. (all that math for nothing) I walk past them with my drinks in hand.

"Hey, where are our drinks?" LeadBitch asks coyly.

"In the bottle; waiting to be poured and paid for, " I reply.

She doesn't like this response, though I can tell she was still trying to process what I meant by that. It's all good though, because a true hottie sitting next to her caught the brief exchange and laughs out loud. I give her a wink, and go back to the games.

Folks, let's do some quick addition here. K?

750ml of whiskey
/
2 dudes
=
happily buzzed
+
14 screwdrivers (that I recall)
/
2 happily buzzed dudes
=
1 happily drunk dude > 1 FatBastard puking...in a bank...ATM.

So he's herfing all over the place, apologizing profusely for being such a pussy, (Which is a good thing, since I would have called him that all night had he not) when I finally convince him we should go back inside, seeing how I left the bartender (read:bestfriend) a large tip, ensuring strong drinks all night.

I walk back in, and give the old nod 'n' wink to my bartender, and she quickly runs over.

"Back for more, eh?" She asks.

"Yes, two blackouts, please," and she quickly rounds up the two strongest drinks on earth.
(Pint glass, filled with 3 kinds of vodka, 151, tequila, triple sec, and a TINY splash of red bull on top)

People, this is one drink that has earned it's title. Forget the "Adios MotherFucker", or the "Irish Car Bomb". This drink delivers. Because after three (I distinctly remember 3) sips, my night ended.

Fade to black...

____________________________________________________________________


...ended as far as my conscience is concerned. I guess my night was not over. I awoke this morning at 9:30am, already late for work, and still drunk as fuck. I stumble through my shower/shave routine, trying to put the pieces together. I dress, kiss my girl (who wasn't nice at all...foreshadowing?) and head to work. I'm driving drunk...in the morning...great. I arrive at work, and empty my pockets. Receipts from the bar, good. I can tell I tipped well. 50% well. No wonder those drinks were so stout. I then scan the cell phone call log. At 12:53am, I called this number: 1574127631275. Gee, I wonder why it didn't go through?

I shamefully called my lady a little later, to ask how much of an ass I was the night before. A big one. A big, shiny, sweaty, hairy, totally-asstastic Ass. I need ideas for making the situation right. Flowers ARE NOT ENOUGH.

She proceeds to tell me that she called, saying that she couldn't pick me up, since our son had just fallen asleep. I go off on her, saying that I'll just fucking walk home, blah blah blah. So she drives down to the bar, waits outside, and some dude walks up to her and asks who she is. He then comes into the bar, and I go up to her window and yell at her, saying how embarassed I am and that she'll never understand. We get home, and I refuse to go in the house. She begs. She yells. I scream some comments that offend her greatly. I finally come in, fall on the couch, and pass-out.

She is the most wonderfull woman in the entire world, and she keeps me sane. Seriously, post some ideas on what would make things right with her again.




Oh, and here's the obligatory link.