It was nice to be drunk, feeling like i haven't been able to reach that level for sometime. Something had held me back before, but this time the beer was going down smooth. Perhaps it was the embarrassment at Hooters that got me started. I was expecting the breast cleavage, but not the bum cleavage. Pretty much something was hanging out every which way you looked and as I was being served they were hurled in my face so I was forced to look.



The night progressed with a walk to another dive for more beers, but on the way we had to make a stop to listen to the taunts of 'You're Ugly!' by an old lady we had declined to pass along a donation too.



By this point, I remember less but have flashbacks of sitting in a pub while an old lady who I think would resemble Ms Havisham from Great Expectations performed folk songs while an old age home escapee accompanied on the keyboard. His face lacked any expression at all having been deprogrammed. I sang loudly. So loud in fact by the time Que Sera Sera came along I had lost my voice.



Binge drinking may have depleted my electrolytes, but it certainly infused moral.