11.06.2006

Last Call

On Friday night I was at our local neighborhood bar, the beloved Pirate's Grub 'n' Grog, from early on in happy hour until last call. This is not something I'm proud of. Actually, the night ended very poorly for me. It started out innocently enough, Kitty and I just wanting to grab a couple drinks to kick off her birthday weekend, maybe a bite to eat. Well, the bar was packed so we ended up on the restaurant side. I think that led me away from my regular Friday night dinner of hot wings and pushed me over the edge to order myself a bacon cheese dog. You read that correctly. A big fat all-beef hot dog topped with 3 slices of bacon and 2 slices of cheddar cheese. After 3 bites I realized I made a huge mistake and ended up putting my dinner to sleep under my napkin.
After dinner I dropped Kitty off and called my quasi-beau (also at Pirate's) to see if he wanted to meet up for a movie and he replied that I had to come back to the bar because there was a girl there that wouldn't leave the table. Well this girl was pretty much the equivalent of a street walker. She had to be in her 40s and had a face that would make Freddy Kreuger cringe in horror. And when I got to the bar she was all over quasi-beau and his friends, at one point grabbing our token gay away from the group to tell him she just needed a friend because she just watched her 5-year old daughter die in her arms. Wow. I came to find out later that she was told that quasi-beau and I were undercover cops. Real nice.
By this time I've had a couple beers under my belt so I worked up the courage to tell her she'd spent enough time at our table and it was time for her to be on her way. She looked at me like I had to be joking but nuh-uh. Bitch, you gots to go. And she did, only to move on to another regular barfly that looks just like Santa Claus. By this point the bartenders are even getting involved telling Freddy's twin that she needed to stop hitting on their dad (Santa) and eventually they kicked her out of the bar. Awesome. After all of this I come to find out quasi-beau had bought her a drink earlier on in the evening. Dummy. No wonder he couldn't shake her.
The evening came to a close with the British bartender, Maria, buying us a round of chocolate cake shots. Ever had one of these? Well it's half Frangelico and either half Absolut Vanilla or Absolut Citron. Either way? Delicious. Only I don't advise taking aforementioned shot after you've had 6 (or more? Bartender gave me a freebie and I lost count) Fat Tires. It may result in you with your head in the toilet after a good roll in the hay. Or so I've heard...
By the way? 6 Fat Tires and bacon cheese dogs are not conducive to weight loss. Shocking. I know. But I've managed to pack on a good 4 pounds this week and that is not ok. Damn you, bite sized candy bars!!!

5 comments:

Shora said...

Mmmm chocolate cake shots. What's a Fat Tire?

(roll in the hay! Oooh! Puking after. Not so oooh)

Beetle said...

Chocolate cake shots fucking rule!
Yeah, what is a Fat Tire?

Itchy said...

Eating spaghetti and drinking lots and lots of beer followed by a roll in the hay is puke inducing as well. Or so I've heard...

Sassy One said...

yeh but enough rolls in the hay and you vito out the chocolate bars.


That said..I'd like to try a Fat Tire please :)

Rhys said...

That's the problem with being so damn hot...bartenders give you free drinks and then you get in trouble. Watch it, girl! :)