27 September 2006

I had Tostitos for breakfast

I woke up in my own bed. Alone (I feel it needs to be said). Still in my halter dress from the night before. When I finally found my purse, it was in the living room sans a box of cloves. My glasses were behind my bed. I tried piecing things together by myself, but all I got was Bar...Booze...mbta? How I got home was a seriously good question, but who took me home was a better one, since I vaguely remembered that, or thought I had vividly dreamed it -- but I distinctly remembered hugging someone. I had to ask around before I got any answers, and none of them answered the biggest question on my mind which was how big a fool I needed to feel today.

But let's rewind a bit. We had a tenth anniversary party at the firm. There was schmoozing, and food, and more importantly, or at least more to the point, there was booze. I'm pretty sure I embarrassed myself, but it was fine until someone in our circle had the phenomenal idea that since we have to buy whatever booze we opened, someone (looks at she who had been pounding drinking the jack and diet cokes all night) should polish off the bottle of Jack Daniels, so the bartender would have to open a new one.

This is unrelated, but I was surprised to find out that a lot of people in the firm are married to other architects. I guess it makes sense, since you spend so much time around it.

Anyway, since the free booze at the office wasn't enough, apparently, we hit a bar afterwards - Red Sky. I do remember a lot of the evening, just not the getting home part. I'm not exactly known for being able to hold my liquor, so I was in fine form. I think Tim described it best when he said, "Briar has been here a month and has hardly said a word to me, and the first time she says anything substantial, it's all 'Bitch, what?'" My friends know it well as the "Briar has no filter, much less when she's been drinking" phenomenon (like the time I stone cold sober wrote "Beirut, What?" in Lesley and Steve's wedding card).

So, everyone at work found out about me and my non existent filter, and also how that little quiet introverted girl who sits in the corner doesn't say anything because, hello, piping hot giant bowl of the crazy. And then I needed to be walked home. The end? Question mark?

3 comments:

JessicaFace said...

Um... I can totally relate. A few weeks ago my work had a social with an open bar and I got totally trashed and almost went home with an army captain. Good times.

Anonymous said...

This is why you need to work with engineers. I get trashed with my coworkers at happy hour on a regular basis, but no one knows because no one is ever more sober than I am...no matter how much drinking there is. Beer and engineers...BFF baby.

Benj said...

Maybe Business Card Guy With Dog walked you home.

Sounds like you are keeping it rell. That's what I like to see.