The game was slow, as I'm sure every one of you knows. And it was long. Two OT's? I was over it. Then we lost. Not okay. Time to change tables. To a booth. Let's just say that sitting in a booth when you're not the one on the end is a bad idea when drinking. I heard the words "I need to get out" and "can I get out?" and "excuse me" more than I wanted. Our party slowly dwindled to enough people that we could move tables. Again.
Oh hi there, New Zealanders. You're pretty. Fast forward two more hours, some more drinks, a game of musical chairs, and a snap show at the creepy Spaniard, the lights come on and we
We all end up back at BFF's apartment (approximately 3 steps away from said bar), to drink beer/wine, snort salt (well, one of us did. Not me.), draw whiskers with eyeshadow on those that pass out, download random apps on phones, close curtains because we are in denial of the rising sun, and then go to bed still in our clothes because it's 6:00 am.
Now, to be fair, I ended up getting my usual 5 hours of sleep, but I woke up soooooooooo tiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiired. BFF comes out of her room still in her dress. We're both probably still drunk. When did this couch get pulled out into a bed? Where did this mostcomfortableduvetintheworld come from? Why am I sleeping on a bare mattress when there's a fitted sheet sitting on the table beside me? So many unanswered questions. Moral of the story? I may or may not be spending a significant amount of time at BFF's this summer.