Sunday, June 24, 2012

The Sod Has Spoken

Drinker's remorse makes me wish she had kept her mouth closed, but perhaps the memory is worse than the event, and it really was just normal conversation. What was supposed to be a quiet night; an early dinner, and then home to watch a movie, escalated. We had cancelled plans with friends because I've been sick all week and our bank account is empty, but after dinner we thought it might be fun to follow the free beer, using accumulated points on loyalty cards and promotional texts at our first two stops... and finished by democratising/lowering the tone of a party at one of Vincent's bars, where, an hour before it officially ended, we checked all of our beliefs and, severely underdressed, walked up a red carpet (past maseratis and searchlights - really), had our photos taken, and then joined a throng of children drinking free cocktails. In the spirit of the evening, we downed them two at a time, the sod spoke, she continued to speak... and the night ended with Vincent getting squashed cheeseburger out of my hairbrush (the one day I had brushed my hair).

What we have learned:
1. The thoughts we entertain during the week, sober, may seem safe but they are not. Not when we are sodden, and they come out of us.
2. Poverty, not will, consenting, is not a valid excuse when Annabel Fay or red carpets are involved.
3. Hypocrisy is a bit like going undercover.
4. Being in a garage makes you a car. By which I mean, when you're undercover on your own mission, you just look like you're what you're pretending to be. Contempt may not be invisible, but it can be misread, especially by stupids.
5. Finish the burger, then lie on the couch.

What we are comforted by:
1. We will never be comfortable being given free things, and can't even fake entitlement.
2. We have a sympathetic family who doesn't make us do the dishes when we're hungover.
3. Oysters always taste wonderful.
4. Our choice of husband.

Get away, witch!

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