I met some ladies for drinks last night. It's sort of dangerous, this bar. Thursdays and Fridays boast a Ladies Happy Hour, featuring free vodka cocktails from 5 to 10 p.m. I don't know how you feel about math, but that is five hours of vodka. For free. And if a 26-year-old lady begins drinking grapefruit vodka and cranberry juice at 6 p.m. on a Thursday, and drinks until 9:30 p.m., what is her blood alcohol content at 8 p.m.?
Right. I don't know either. But when I hopped out of my seat and hugged the girls goodbye before I walked home, I was just a touch loopy.
The best part of that equation, other than good friends and "free," was the walking home bit. I strolled over to the swanky bar just before 6 last night while the sun was shining, people were out running, the traffic was still bumping along near downtown.
I still haven't gotten used to this ability to walk anywhere I want to go. Here it was, a beautiful Thursday night, and I was heading over to happy hour with the girls. No worrying about parking or driving or how I was going to get home, because it'd only take me eight minutes to walk there.
There was certainly no worrying about how I was going to pay for my night out because it was freeeeeeeeee.
Oh, life is grand. Especially after spending three-plus hours laughing until tears with a table of women.
I shall get used to this.