I had one of those spontaneous nights that pop up rarely. And the way I felt this morning it is a good thing they are rare. I drunk dialed Jennie last night to the point where she sent me an email this morning asking if I were alive.
From these photos it looks like I was at a gay club. My hat was a big hit, as you can see. My hat was the town whore. Everyone had her for a ride. It was so popular that I never got it back.
Here are the two dudes responsible for my night. After work I rushed to he golf course to get in 9 holes. I ran into the clubhouse to pay and this old guy, a member, yelled at me that I could't be in there with my golf shoes. I was pissed but quickly turned around to go change my shoes so i could pay. Anthony the bartender, the guy on the left, came out behind me and said he take my money so I would't have to waste time changing my shoes. Nice guy.
After my round he asked if I wanted a pint. I wasn't planning on it, but since I'm on this adventure I'm trying to say "hell, yes" o life. A little while later his buddy Michael, in the middle of this picture came by to hang with Anthony. Four beers later they said "you're going out with us". We piled in my Mini and we walked over to the nightclub to hear some music. It was really fun, although I never should have had those four Jagermeister shots. A little while later was the drunken call to Jennie.
A couple more items from the night:
* Michael and Anthony look older but are both 24. Almost Bret's age
* Michael is a champion level hammer thrower. He couldn't watch the Olympic event because he just missed making the club (an injury slowed him down). He said he beat 9 of the 12 guys in the Olympics. He's another nice kid. Although he's the kind of dude who, as he says, "likes a scrap". I could see it.
I just read Jennie's post. I totally forgot about the cigarette. And I woke up this morning at 9:00am wondering when I got that glass of water.
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