Anchoring in the aways
It was the ABFF’s birthday the other day so I invited her and the Firecracker to a local dive bar because I’m classy like that.
It started off normal enough, with just some burgers, chips, and guac…
…and some boardgames.
Things started to go sideways – at least for me – when I got the table some jello shots.
Her: Oh man, I can’t remember the last time I had one of these.
Me: I think it was around the turn of the century for me.
Again, I’m nuthin if not classy.
And the waiter comped us some really gross fireball shots.
That’s when the carbs started happening.
Something about greasy carbs when I’m drinking makes me feel particularly gross and this was no exception.
I didn’t last too much longer after that.
While we did stay out for some four hours, the Firecracker was happy that we got home at a reasonable hour – although, based on our conversations, we probably shoulda ended earlier.
Firecracker: That’s one good thing about your being so old, we have early nights.
Me: Who are you calling old?!
Her: You, old man. (later) Look, if you want your anchor in my away, you’re gonna have to make sure my boat is floating.
Me: What does that even mean?!
Her: See, you’re old.
Location: home, surrounded by the kid and his friend, who kept tripping on stuff
Mood: still hungry after four tacos, two turkey sandwiches, three oranges, and a baga chips. I want more.
Music: joy up on my face. Oh, sunshine in an empty place (Spotify)
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