I Did It Again

Okay seriously guys, you need to remind me that I am not 21 years old, I no longer can sleep through my first (three) classes, and I actually have to do real-life stuff.

READ: I cannot go to the strip club on a school work night!

How does this always happen? What started out as a friendly co-workery get together at the bar next door turned into a night with strange half-naked women.

I'd typically say "Let me 'splain," but really, there's not logical explanation for this. I went to happy hour with a group of co-workers. It was cool. We had some "team building." Had some laughs. Good stuff. And then we went home at 7:00 PM. I'm fairly certain this is where normal people would resume normal night time routines, like you know, eating dinner and going to bed before 11:00 PM.

Hi, yeah, remember me? I'm not very good at this whole "moderation" thing everyone keeps talking about.

Instead, I grab Husband and we go meet a couple of friends at a local bar, Carolina Crust, for some beers. And pizza. And apparently fucking tequila. We played some Bar Bingo (which is just Bingo with bar terms instead of numbers) and you'd be amazed at how crazy people get over needing someone with a microphone to say "N-Jagerbomb" and "B-Three Wise Men."

And seriously, why is it that after you have 3 buckets of beer, someone always says, "So. You guys wanna shot?" And everyone is all like "Yeah! That's the best idea evvvver." And then someone orders 5 shots of tequila. (BILLY.) So Billy ordered us some tequila, and then a little later we got our tabs from the waitress and Billy learned that each shot was $5. And that was just ridiculous. The shots were teeny, like didn't even make it up to the bottom line of the little plastic shot cup and the limes were disgustingly hard. (I don't have anything to say about the salt. The salt held up it's end of the deal.) So I mustered up some courage and decided I was going to argue with the bartender.

And by arguing I mean that I really went up to the bartender and said, "Soooo can I argue with you?" in the cutest voice I have. Asked him his opinion on how big a shot should be and how much he'd willingly pay for said shot. And his answer, as I'd hoped, was that he would pay less for more and then offered us another round of nasty ass tequila on the house. All the while, Husband was at the table saying "I bet Nicole will come back with free shots." I do my man proud.

So then, remember how we were talking about how someone always has the genius idea of ordering shots? Well, I always have the genius idea of going to the strip club. And sometimes everyone else is in that weird ass, dirty frame of mind where they just want to be balls-out ridiculous.

And apparently WEDNESDAY was that kind of night.

So Husband, Billy, and I venture to Jaguars. (I totally spelled it JUGuars at first.) And apparently a lot of other people were in a wild mood that night because it was surprisingly crowded. It was a typical stripper-y night. Lots of boobs. And beers. And judging. And laughing.

And okay, I have no idea how this happens, but it always does. Always. Somehow, I make eye contact with a stripper, and I smile, because I'm nice... and because I'm drunk. And then somehow "Eden" of Jaguars ends up on my lap talking thisclosetomyface about her life. And about how pretty my dress is. And all I'm thinking to myself is "Jesus Christ I do not want to see her garden." And then suddenly I somehow have a new stripper BFF. Every time!

So yeah, apparently I still act like I'm some lunatic college kid who can drink her face off until 3:00 AM on a Wednesday.

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