I chose beer over bed, for those of you who were concerned about me. J and M (my favorite married drunks) called and wanted me to meet them out for St. Patty’s Day drinks at a smoky little bar on their side of town so I did. JGJ and I rolled up around 10:30 to find that M, J and P had already passed the limit and could no longer form sentences. As soon as I walked in I saw J, towering over most of the men in the bar and smiling at me with the drunk, googly eyes that I usually see until well into my night. But she looked fabulous and was in rare form.
There was a lot of slurring and yelling and cheers-ing and then there was P…who evidently loses all inhibition when he has been drinking and kept planting his hand firmly on my ass.
In the hour and a half we were there:
We learned that M’s watch fits on my upper arm quite nicely.
We had two shots of Jaeger apiece.
J grabbed my boobs twice.
P confessed to me his crush and then tried to backpedal and blame his actions on J.
We had no green beer at all.
We learned that JGJ cannot drive after peeing.
The rest of the weekend involved my three year old cousin’s birthday party, a free bottle of Captain, a kid I used to baby-sit turning 21, death threats, searching for the perfect hemp necklace, watching pelicans in St. Augustine and dinner at the Conch House. It was a good one.
Anyone want to donate to the “Crizzle Doesn’t Want a Job” fund? Contact me directly. Thanks. I need MORE doing nothing in the sun. And I am getting the Spring Fever. I may never wear a bra again.
Stuck-in-my-head Song of the Day: "Hurricane" - Bob Dylan