Choices

Saturday night I was at a bar clumsily dancing my butt off around 1 am, and I decided it was time to switch to water.  I had already switched to beer but after a few shots over the course of the night, it was really time to switch to water.  After all, when we finally got off the train later that night I would have to drive us home from the station.

The bartender obliged–quickly and with a smile.  As I took a sip, a guy next to me at the bar said, “That’s really weak.”

I turned to face him. “Well, I’m driving, so it’s actually really strong.” I took another sip. 

“Uh, yeah,” he stammered, “It’s weak, but it’s strong, like–”

I didn’t even stick around for the back pedaling.  I turned on my heel and went back to the dance floor with my nice glass of ice water.

It’s tough to feel bad after you make the right choice.

 

(This was the night I realized that I am bold after two shots and mean after three.  So you can guess where I was at this point.)

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