Birthday Rowdiness
Mar. 5th, 2004 08:23 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
jamesqI went to a birthday party at Kilkenny's last night. Arriving late I managed to see lots of drunken friends and was immediately grabbed by numerous attractive women. I think this whole alcohol fad may not be a flash in the pan – at least, I hope it's not.
I met a fellow movie buff – Michelle (sp?) who immediately started quizzing me to make sure I actually did know as much about movies as Lisa claimed I did. I have a sneaky suspicion I didn't pass, but it really depends on what I was being marked on.
Michelle mentioned that she's been reading this website, and that she thinks it's very political. I don't know that I agree – I've certainly discussed politics in the past, but it doesn't happen that often does it?
In my continuing attempt to find good tasting booze, I had a shot of something that I was told was an After Eight. It smelled really good – just like an After Eight (the chocolate mint) in fact. I sucked it back and for a split second it tasted good. Then the overwhelmingly nauseous flavor of licorice washed over my mouth – I hate licorice. What I just drank had some Sambuca in it, so it could have been an Iceball, Roman Stinger or a The Spitting Hamster – but it certainly wasn't an After Eight.
Lisa (whose birthday it was) was sexy and happy – a great combination. A hair salon appointment/birthday present, some new clothes and quite a few drinks had her enjoying life. I approve.
Everyone else seemed to be having a great time. Me? I was relaxed, had Kathy snuggling me from the left and Jenny snuggling me from the right and I was watching the waitress with the figure skater's figure bend over the table away from me while wearing a plaid skirt. Life was good.
Eye candy was all the waitress was good for though, as she was nearly universally disliked by the fifteen or so people who showed up. Lippy, lackluster service is never good. Combine it with having to wait forty minutes for the beer you ordered and you have a recipe for lack of tip. I didn't experience most of this as I was late showing up. I did see one event toward the end of the evening that seemed to sum things up:
Lisa's brother James bought her a Muff Diver. Watching her consume it was amusing (drunk girl + whipped cream + no hands = messy arousing fun). When the waitress came to clear the table she dropped the glass down the side of Michelle's leg (leaving a huge spooge-like trail) whereupon it hit the floor and shattered into messy bits of foam and glass.
Now I'm not too worried about a moment of clumsiness – shit happens after all, and I've had accidents of embarrassing equivalence. Here's the thing – the waitress never cleaned up the mess. Our area had the remains of a busted glass on the floor and she never made an attempt to remove the shards.
I left Kilkenny because I had to work in the morning, and others either went home or went to the Crack Alley to dance. My sleep was not to be undisturbed though as Lisa, Gaerwen and Jenny came home around 3 AM and had forgotten their keys. My window being right beside the door it was me they woke up. I can think of better ways of being waken up at 3 AM. Many of them even involve these three young ladies – it's a testament to how tired I was that I made no such comment at the time, opting instead to pass back out almost instantly.
I met a fellow movie buff – Michelle (sp?) who immediately started quizzing me to make sure I actually did know as much about movies as Lisa claimed I did. I have a sneaky suspicion I didn't pass, but it really depends on what I was being marked on.
Michelle mentioned that she's been reading this website, and that she thinks it's very political. I don't know that I agree – I've certainly discussed politics in the past, but it doesn't happen that often does it?
In my continuing attempt to find good tasting booze, I had a shot of something that I was told was an After Eight. It smelled really good – just like an After Eight (the chocolate mint) in fact. I sucked it back and for a split second it tasted good. Then the overwhelmingly nauseous flavor of licorice washed over my mouth – I hate licorice. What I just drank had some Sambuca in it, so it could have been an Iceball, Roman Stinger or a The Spitting Hamster – but it certainly wasn't an After Eight.
Lisa (whose birthday it was) was sexy and happy – a great combination. A hair salon appointment/birthday present, some new clothes and quite a few drinks had her enjoying life. I approve.
Everyone else seemed to be having a great time. Me? I was relaxed, had Kathy snuggling me from the left and Jenny snuggling me from the right and I was watching the waitress with the figure skater's figure bend over the table away from me while wearing a plaid skirt. Life was good.
Eye candy was all the waitress was good for though, as she was nearly universally disliked by the fifteen or so people who showed up. Lippy, lackluster service is never good. Combine it with having to wait forty minutes for the beer you ordered and you have a recipe for lack of tip. I didn't experience most of this as I was late showing up. I did see one event toward the end of the evening that seemed to sum things up:
Lisa's brother James bought her a Muff Diver. Watching her consume it was amusing (drunk girl + whipped cream + no hands = messy arousing fun). When the waitress came to clear the table she dropped the glass down the side of Michelle's leg (leaving a huge spooge-like trail) whereupon it hit the floor and shattered into messy bits of foam and glass.
Now I'm not too worried about a moment of clumsiness – shit happens after all, and I've had accidents of embarrassing equivalence. Here's the thing – the waitress never cleaned up the mess. Our area had the remains of a busted glass on the floor and she never made an attempt to remove the shards.
I left Kilkenny because I had to work in the morning, and others either went home or went to the Crack Alley to dance. My sleep was not to be undisturbed though as Lisa, Gaerwen and Jenny came home around 3 AM and had forgotten their keys. My window being right beside the door it was me they woke up. I can think of better ways of being waken up at 3 AM. Many of them even involve these three young ladies – it's a testament to how tired I was that I made no such comment at the time, opting instead to pass back out almost instantly.
