By: Sweepea
So I had this absolutely brilliant piece written that outlined my complete genius in becoming a bartender. It was inspiring, stimulating, and breathtaking, and I guarantee that there would’ve been a tear in your eye by the end. But then my stupid work computer crashed and the doc was lost. Okay, maybe I shouldn’t have been doing this stuff at work, but that’s really not the point. The point is that with the SIGD offices closed the past week I really had no motivation to write it all over again. So now you’re stuck with this.
To start off, I have to explain the layout of my apartment. My bedroom window overlooks a beautiful view of the carport and the apartment dumpster. So not only do I get the delectable scent of exhaust fumes and filth, but I get to hear the nightly drama that always seems to take place in the parking area. Each of these exchanges make up what I like to call “Dumpster Drama.”
This evening’s drama actually starred me in the leading role as “Drunk Girl,” which is why I felt it would fit perfectly with the rest of these sorry drunks. I was walking from Cheesecake Factory where I had just imbibed 3 of their fantastic Long Island Iced Teas (they make theirs with their homemade lemonade instead of sweet and sour – so good). I was smart enough to be walking home instead of driving (it’s only a couple blocks from my apartment) with this guy I’ve been dating. He walked a little bit ahead of me when we turned the corner down my completely unlit street heading to above-mentioned carport. I must’ve made some yelp noise because when he turned back, I was on the ground. I mean, that’s how quickly it happened. Yelp, turn, boom – I’m on the ground.
I happened to fall in a pile of dirt, too, which was a particularly sticky kind of mud. Not just your ordinary run-of-the-mill dirt. No this stuff STICKS. It got on my shoes, my jeans, my hands… I was covered in it.
So I look up at my date and he has this bizarre look on his face. I’m completely confused at this point – still reeling from falling, slowly realizing how drunk I am, trying to count backwards the number of Long Island Iced Teas, and cautiously adding up the ounces of alcohol in each (which I learned in Bartending School, thankyouverymuch). And he’s got this strange look… It is then, as the thick fog of tequila, triple sec, vodka, rum, and gin clears, that I realize he’s calculating in his head the proper moment when he can start laughing at me.
…And CURTAIN.
(BTW…for all you wondering, each drink had a total of 2 1/2 oz. x 3 drinks = 7 1/2 oz. total)
For more Dumpster Drama, go to Sweepea’s Lounge.
