- - - But they sure as hell are allowed to pass judgement on their intoxicated behavior.
Being a DD is not so bad if you go to a nice bar that is also a dance club. In which most of the night is spent shaking your booty and dancing to more than one Keisha or Lady GaGa song till you can't tell which from which.
However - if your friend happens to have a 2 month expired liscence and you can't get into said bar/club. Then your next best bet is a red neck bar that doesn't card - and while painfully has karaoke night - has two high def TV's, one of which has a mildly amusing independent horror flick on. One can endure watery sodas and badly croaked tunes knowing at the end of the night you will be preventing drunk driving. All the while privately passing judgement on the behavior of others who have lost the ability to stand through excessive consumption.
The warm fuzzy feeling of morally upright behavior diminishes into the wee hours of the morning when you realize daylight savings is about to rob you of an hour - an hour you had hoped to better spend playing video games. Or that your friends, with little inhibitions left, wish to make out with the bar owner (who is in no way interested in what they're selling) and then wishes to do a few drunken cartwheels in the parking lot. Images of nightmarishly long hours spent in the ER explaining to doctors and nurses why your friend snapped their neck tends to be an even bigger buzz kill when one is in no way buzzed. What might have been amusing behavior at midnight was not so funny at 2 pm with the fear that any state of inversion may cause the passenger to re-distribute the contents of that nights adventures in the backseat of one's car.
The false hope of all night diner food was further crushed by the only desired item on the menu being currently out of stock. But slightly enlivened by the aforementioned drunken friend falling asleep over their food and thus imparting the right to poke her with a fork.
Luck seemed to be on my side though as I deposited them home just in time for the sleepy drunk to hurl in the trash can in the kitchen. I counted my blessings, hugged the less indisposed of my friends, and enjoyed my additional 45 minute ride home where I crawled into bed only for it all too soon to be morning with the realization that: While I love my friends to pieces - they will be drinking on their own time until they can all learn to keep it down like a champion.
Because the two hardest smells to get out of upholstery are gasoline and vomit.
Sleeping En Community Member 
|
|
