So my illustrious friend and coworker Oscar is getting married on Saturday, so last night I went to my first-ever bachelor party. For some reason, every wedding I’ve been associated with has been through the female, and, well, I haven’t been invited to any bachelorette parties. And that’s just OK.
Even though it was pretty tame by bachelor party standards (yes, Staci, it was entirely inoffensive–PG 13 for occasional strong language and drug references), I do have the hurt on this morning. I prepped myself well with plenty of water but failed to keep up the non-alcohol drinking during the event.
I did decided that discretion was the better part of valor, and cowardice the better part of discretion, and valiantly chickened out of the (rather large) shots after two rounds, continuing on with my beloved Boddington’s.
After my share of the nearly-$600-bill, I called it a night. The metro was still running and it seemed a good time to acknowledge that I’m not 22 anymore.
I do vaguely remember arguing with some overweight chick in a blue dress that, despite whatever rhetoric she may have about their contribution to society, going to law school made her a future lawyer, which made her evil. Hint: if you can’t out-argue an inebriated layperson, as I was somewhat pejoratively described, that you are not in fact evil…well, you may not be the best at being evil.
I do recall vaguely saying goodbye to Oscar and telling the woman, who was standing next to him, “Good luck with the evil!” on my way out.
Yep. Kinda drunk.
Kinda hurts this morning. Probably the God of Lawyers’s wrath for picking on the weaker members of the herd. But they were slow and stupid, which is why we have wolves and other large predators. It’s all part of the Circle of Pain.
A bit beautiful, really.
And, like most beauty, it leaves a pounding headache the next morning.
This post dedicated to Ginger, who likes this sort of thing much better than my boring political or Web development rants.