In the beforetimes, when I worked at that-place-that-shall-not-be-named, David B. would always ask, "Is this a milestone birthday?"
Well, no, this past birthday was not any special number. But I did get plenty of well wishes, thank you one and all.
The day was pretty uneventful. I worked until dinnertime, when Mr. and I strolled up to one of the local bars for eats and drinks.
Now, it's no secret that I can't hold my liquor. I can usually handle one glass of beer or one mixed drink. Any more than that, and I quickly go from pleasantly buzzed to hellza-no-I'm-gonna-be-sick.
So I decided to order one margarita with my dinner. The surly waitress produced a tall glass with barely any ice in it. It was strong. Very strong. I should have had her take it away, but it's not in my nature to complain, so I took a few more sips and pushed it to the side.
"I'll eat dinner first," I said to myself. "Then I'll be able to drink it because the food will absorb the alcohol."
And so it went that I continued to sip the drink during my meal, but at the end, there was still a significant amount left in my glass.
As many of you know from experience, alcohol is the great deceiver. Once you get a buzz going, you think you can handle anything.
I finished the drink. I went to sign the check. So far so good.
"Don't forget to take your credit card," Mr. Ginley said. Three times.
Getting up from the booth seating was problematic. Navigating to the front of the bar was also a bit of a challenge. Fortunately, Mr. Ginley did not imbibe during dinner. So I knew that if I collapsed, he could go home and get the car and fetch me.
It did not come to that. I giggled most of the way home, and Mr. and I had a pleasant jaunt.
Everything was just dandy for the next hour or so. Then my stomach staged a revolt. Clearly, it was not happy with my lack of judgement. I didn't throw up, but I felt awful. I went to bed at the usual time, rolled over, and was out.
Why is it we ignore the little voice in our head that tries to warn us that we're about to do something king stupid?
"Nah, that can't be poison ivy, I'll be all right."
"It's only supposed to snow a couple of inches, I'll be fine to drive home."
"Sure, let's go ziplining, sounds like fun."
You know, even Bugs Bunny knew that if you listened to the devil on your shoulder instead of the angel, there was going to be hell to pay.
As the comedian Larry Miller famously said in his bit, 5 Stages of Drinking, "I swear, I will never do this again, as long as I live – and some of us have this little addition – and this time, I mean it!"
William Andrews, Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons.