Ow, ow ow.

< /hangover >

Dammit, when they say $20 for "all you can drink" in 3 hours I should remember that it's not actually a contest to see how much I can drink!

And when I drop my phone on the el tracks and the guy in the booth says no problem to getting it because the trains have stopped running, I should realize that there's no train coming. And that I'm probably too drunk to walk 3 miles home in 24-degree weather (although, as it turns out, I wasn't actually too drunk to do so).

And when I run into guys on the walk who say they go to school with my brother (they said they went to Miami before I said I knew someone there), I should realize that they're way younger than I am (they were 19) and that they probably just want me to buy them beer.

And when I'm talking to someone on the phone and he says to call him back when I'm home and naked, I probably shouldn't.

Good times. Actually, I did have fun last night, even when I was playing wingman and had to talk to some sketchy guy who races midget cars that his dad builds. Or when I found the guy (or maybe just one of the guys) in the bar who wanted to move to LA and be an actor (I left LA for a reason!), but who was wearing a flannel(!) shirt. I'm glad I left my apartment, and I did actually meet people, though no one I'd really want to see again.

Best thing all night, though, was the sign in the bathroom announcing that the bar has a 5-week Euchre tournament!! Anyone want to be my partner? I LOVE Euchre, although last time I played in an official tournament (at church, no less) I was handily beaten by a bunch of old women who cheated like bandits.