The night began at the usual watering hole, Ned's. You know you go to the bar too much when you walk through the door and three people yell your name. I should be ashamed...but I am not. After finding a suitable table and after saying our hello's, my friend and I made our way to the bar. It is tradition that I begin a night on the town with a shot of Patron. I don't know why I do this. Nights that begin with Patron usual end with me losing my keys or telling someone I don't even know to "suck it." But keeping with our attitude of having the best night ever, we took the shots. I walked back to the table with my usual vodka tonic, a pitcher of beer for two of my other friends, and 3 glasses. I have just recently discovered vodka. I blame that on Chelsea Handler. Bless you Chelsea.
But back to what I remember of that night. I am a sucker of pop culture trivia and pride myself on knowing an abundance of useless knowledge. It is because of this knowledge I won another shot or two and a couple of vodka tonics. Let me do a little plug for Ned's here. The bartenders at Ned's know why we come there, to drink and they will help you do that. Most the shots are doubles, the drinks are strong, and the drinks are cheap. Thank you Ned's.
So after a few more drinks and accepting a pity drink from an ex, I went to another little establishment down the road. It is at this point it gets a little fuzzy...
My friends and I went to the bar and the male friend of mine paid for the cover and told me he wanted a beer, his "date" wanted a water, and he told me to get whatever I wanted. I am not sure, but I think it took me about 20 minutes to order these drinks. Not that it was busy but because a guy had caught my eye. While flirting and not remembering what I was saying, I ordered the drinks. The prey I was talking to was cute. I wasn't too drunk to know that.
After what seems like 10 minutes or an hour of talking to this guy, my friend with the fuchsia lipstick found me. As we made a trek to the bathroom my friend told me my ex was at the bar looking for me. Great. Just what I needed. To deal with him while flirting with another. While I complained and stumbled around in the bathroom I told my friend about the guy I had just met. I have no clue as to what her response was to this. As we walked out of the restroom, I found my guy waiting for me at the exact place I left him. (Yes.) After many attempts to take me home and after repeating "no" a few dozen times (will power), the bar was closing and someone was handing me a drink. Low and behold, the ex. I of course accepted the drink and broke it to him he was not coming home with me. I get a little blunt when I am drinking. That is when people started falling. My friend in the fuchsia lipstick was sitting on the floor and my male friend and his date were carrying my ex out the door...to my car. I do not drink and drive. Just not all about that. A male friend was my DD and I love him for that and so much more. As I am standing next to my car watching him and his date walk to my car something unexplainable happened. I was standing with my hand on the door handle, standing perfectly still talking to my friends and then, I was on the ground. This is were the 5" yellow heels did not come in handy. As my friends come to help me I say,"I just sprained my ankle." He looks at me and we just laugh. We try to figure out how this could have possibly happened but would rather figure it out the next day.
I remember getting home and crawling into bed. My foot felt fine. I thought,"That pop didn't mean anything. It will be better in the morning. It was just a little twist." Well, it has been over a week and I am still limping. Looks like I did a number on my ankle.
I can't blame anyone but myself for this. I wore flats for maybe two days but after that I was back in boots and heels. I am a firm believer in fashion over function. My ankle may still hurt but damn it I look good.
