Okay, I need a lot. I won’t fight you on that.
But I have a question — maybe one of you can answer.
Why would you decide in a bar, as an adult, drunk or not, to start throwing bottles across the room? And why would you be even remotely surprised when I toss you out for doing so?
I’ve talked to some hideous women when drunk. I think I might have sung Pearl Jam at karaoke, even. But there are some things at which even drunk me would stop, look you clear-eyed dead in the face, and say, “What the fuck?”
Seriously. Bottles. Did you parents just pretend they didn’t have you, and leave you to be raised by young puppies from abusive homes?
Oh, and don’t bow up, either. At 2 AM, I’m already really cranky and moving into the worst part of my night; anything you start is just going to make my night better. Oh, and Garth and Jason and Tyler are so much more vicious than anything you’ve ever imagined people could get paid for.
Yeah. It’s their job. They’re good at it, and they really seem to like it.
The moral of this story, folks, is don’t throw bottles in our bar. Or glasses. Or anything, unless it’s green and spendable.
And you wonder why I didn’t come out last night.
Hmmm… lemmee see now… I can stay home with my girl and hang out with friends, have great food we cooked out, cold drinks at much cheaper prices, a lil’ smokey smoke, and then some QT with the cutie… OR I can go to Bailey’s and be the unwitting target for a bottle thrown by a drunken (or even better, sober) asshole.
For this I get called a (and I quote) “pussy”?
There seem to be some prioritization issues here.