Shenanigans

Two weekends ago, I went to a friend's birthday party at Trader Vic's. She wanted to have kitschy fun, so we donned our leis and had a night out on the town. I was warned that the drinks at TV's are pretty strong - but you know me, I never heed a warning. I ordered a Menehune, which is some pineapple and rum concoction named after mythical little people that come from Hawaii. My drinks even came with little people. For real! They were so cute I ordered two more. I probably should have stopped at one.

TV's isn't really a bar you can party at (though it should be), so we left and headed over to Aurum. I was already pretty drunk, but made my way to the bar and ordered a glass of champagne. I was there for a half a champagne before I pulled my latest ninja move. Lately when I get drunk, I shut down, so my single focus the moment this happens is to go home. I don't say bye, I don't announce I'm leaving, I just get up, close my tab and go. So I did.

The funniest part of the evening was stumbling out of Aurum and somehow hailing the same cab that brought me to Trader Vic's earlier that evening. He recognized me, asked me how my night was, etc. No he did not give me a discount (but he should have). I half thought about asking him to take me through the drive-thru at McDonald's, but I was too drunk to articulate anything.

If I didn't have proof of it the next morning, I would have sworn I didn't have anything to eat that night, but when I woke to a massive headache the next morning, totally naked in my bed, I wandered into the kitchen and saw all my clothes and evidence of taco-making. Cheddar cheese strands everywhere, the microwave door flung open, salsa and chips strewn across the counter. What can I say? I'm a classy drunk.