If you need to know me, you need to know three things about me:
One, I don't like beer. Not even a little. And the idea that people drink non-alcoholic beer, which is essentially beer without the buzz, is beyond all belief. You mean, you drink it for the flavor? I shudder.
Two, I don't party hard(ly ever). Crowded bars? Drunken slobs? Not my thing. (Unless you get me drunk first. Very drunk).
And three, my favorite color is purple. I totally thought I'd just throw that in there.
But last night, not only did I go to the bar (and enjoy myself), I also drank a whole beer. A pint. A pint of beer. Me. All by myself. WHOA. Yes, I just patted myself on the back.
You see, I'm at the bar with The Fiance and some pals, I'd already sucked down a Bloody Mary and a Jager Bomb (and also if you know me, you know I'm a lush), so I was feeling pretty fabulous. And by "fabulous" I mean I used the words "bacterial" and "vaginosis" in the same sentence while conversing with a table of mixed-gender friends. And also reminding (of course by "reminding," I mean, "he totally never would've known had I not opened my large mouth") another pal about the time a few months back when The Fiance and I (Mom, Dad, shut your eyes) did, uh, it nearly in front of him while he was sleeping several feet away on the couch.
By that point I decided, Hell, I need a beer. I think the others likely needed a beer by this point as well, especially The Fiance. Silly, Krista.
So I did it. I ordered a pint of Leinenkugel's Sunset Wheat, a really fancy name for "beer that doesn't taste like beer." And I drank it. And it was not gross. And I finished it before it got warm. And Mom would be so proud. Or likely not. Especially after reading this, and thinking, "Whose child is this?" Then tapping Dad's shoulder, saying, "Honey, really. Is this our daughter?" To which he responds with a quizzical shoulder shrug. However, I drank a beer. And then the group of us, wobbly and happy, walked across the street to my too-small apartment and fell asleep in the wee hours of morning.
Fabulous night. And I've also been warned by a Groomsmen that he now has highly flammable ammo to use against us during "speech time" of our wedding. Um, whoops.