New York Night

Last night, after watching “The Colby Show” — oh, I’m sorry, “Survivor” — I went out drinking with a rather charming guy. We started out in Hell and eventually ascended to Starlight (sheesh, those New York bar names). Four hours of intelligent conversation, three and a half Coronas, one and a half bourbon and Cokes, and one Peanut Butter Twix bar later, I came home and went to bed, nicely buzzed. I woke up four hours after I’d gone to bed, picked up the phone, called into work to say I’d be using some of my sick hours, got back into bed, felt nauseous, got up, nothing happened, went back to bed, felt nauseous again, got up, nothing happened again, got back into bed, fell asleep. Woke up around noon, had a bowl of Crispix and a glass of OJ, showered, dressed and came into work. I still feel a little hung over.

It had been a long time since I’d gone out on a Thursday night and gotten myself nicely drunk. It was just like those good old college and law school days. I’ll have to do this more often.