"Dinnertime": A Story in Pictures

On Saturday night, I went out for a bite to eat with my friend Kate.  Here we are at Chumley's, having just finished our noms:

Then there was a guy who was bugging us, so we headed off to the Knickerbocker.  "To hear some live music."  Right.  These folks were on the main stage tonight:

Of course, Kate did get a crush on the actual singer that night.  But mostly we just hung out.  A couple martinis later turned into Drunk Faces, which looks like

which ended up like

then there were pictures on my phone like

which meant that on Sunday I looked like


I managed to force-feed myself on Sunday around 2:30 pm, and that was the last and only thing I ate that day.  I bet Kate got up early, went for a jog and then did her taxes, because she's 21 and therefore has special drinking superpowers.  Since I'm 27 and therefore old enough to be her grandmother, a couple of martinis means I am actually dancing to shitty music, asking a guy named Dante which circle of hell was his favorite, and telling a girl passed out in the bathroom surrounded by her squawking idiot friends that she must be known as "the quiet one." 

Had an interesting dream last night that I was riding shotgun next to my mom in her Buick, and she was driving like a crazy person:  I was tumbling around the car, telling her to slow down, and she would let out an evil cackle and tell me to stop being so sensitive.  Considering that, in real life, my mom doesn't drive on interstates and is convinced that if a bear attack or an audit are possibilities within a hundred miles, they will happen, I have no idea what that dream means.

EDIT:  Also, David said his phone interview went well, but he's already in the middle of setting up interviews with Purdue.  He's also gotten a few calls from random places.  Still, I hope he gets an offer from my employer.  We wouldn't work together at all, but it would be pretty nice financially, especially if we carpooled and ate at the verrrry inexpensive company cafeteria.  Let's wish him luck.

1 comment:

  1. If a bear is in hundred yards, it happen. You become nom.