And this is where we take an intermission, because the month is more than halfway over. Take a seat, get off your feet. Let’s be a bit literal:
A lot of notes were taken this weekend, but they are being considered and worked for SNT posts. I know it’s not my intention to put crap posts with crap writing on here, but a break is sometimes needed. Updating “life” posts are reading bland to me. This is why I don’t post every day; other bloggers have this knack to write day-to-day updates more entertainingly, but not this guy. After yesterday’s marathon of a day, outing-after-outing, my mind and body would like to sit back and take some time to recover. I’m not as young as I used to be as, or think I am; ergo, partying and going out happens sparingly.
I still got up and outside by 8:20 AM. Mass was attended, defining a two-week streak. And breakfast at Niki’s Quick Cup was a definite highlight. A little greasy spoon diner always produces a meal to make your feel all warm and cozy inside. The above picture is of my omelette: bacon, sausage, chicken, cheddar cheese. The home fries were extra crispy. The toast had a little bit too much butter for my taste … but I ate it anyway, superfluous butter and all.
The object is to enjoy oneself with as little, head pounding repercussions as possible. Also, it’s not purposeful to be the asshat at the bar. At Empire, for example, last night presented a situation that could have ended a few different ways. When you order six or seven shots for you and your cohorts and you give the bartender hell, you’ve clearly brought a wave of consequence upon yourself. When the bartender kindly asks a person to leave, they shouldn’t stand in place and just stare or give the server lip.
Or so it seemed. The next thing I knew, the rude customer was being told to leave. It then got to the point where the bartender escorted the guy out to talk to him. Those working in the food service, since we’re on the topic, already work in a fast-paced environment. There is a fair amount of stress and struggle while performing their jobs, which is catering to every patron’s needs. Not just one person, not just you.
And on that note of keeping oneself in check, I best do so myself: write some SNT stuff.
And drink water. Lots of water. And coffee. Always coffee.
One thought on “Sober Sunday”
Nothing like finding a drunk, mouthy, non-agreeable airhole in one’s midsts. Luckily I was always a friendly drunk right up to the point that I was a prone drunk.
Too much butter? Never happened.