Holy crap. So, tonight was a royal mess. It started out simple enough: got the night off, went to the beach and chilled for a while, then headed out for drinks with my friend from work, Allison. She just left her douchebag boyfriend of 4 years, Clint. This guy is a serious asshole, man. Everyone hates him, and she finally saw the light, so I wanted to take her out to celebrate. We started at Bricktops...I had one mojito, she had a cosmo. Then we went to Brio. I had an espresso martini & a cosmo...she had 2 espresso martinis and a cosmo. Then we went to Jacks. That's when things got bad.
A few shots later, she was passed out on the bar. Srsly, passed the fuck out. Done. Bye-bye, gnight, peace out, she was finished. The bouncer, Jamal, just stood next to me giving me the death stare till I had to pull her car around and help her into it. Jesus. I had to have someone drive her home in her car, then I had to drive him back to his car at the bar. What a mess.
What I really want to say is, I asked a few people to help me out tonight. And you know what? They all said no. What a bunch of assholes. I'm sorry that you're too busy trying to get laid at some sleazy fucking bar to help escort your "friend" home safely. What if that were me? Honestly...what if it were? Situations like this really show you who your true friends are.
Actually, that WAS me on my 27th birthday back in August, and my good friend Laura drove me home. Yeah, so I puked out the window of her car a couple times, but she cared enough to help me get back, like any good friend would. I'm just amazed at how some people can be complete jerk-offs when it comes down to important things like this, and it's something I won't forget.
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