So I came home at 3 in the afternoon and I was feeling a little better after puking for 3 hours all the 2 shots and a drink that made me commandeer the toilet at the hotel room while friends continued to, as they say, Party Party.
I figured Joe was going to be a bit cranky considering that I wasn't home last weekend and yesterday I left saying - "I will be back early, I think", so to make up for my inconsiderate absence I planned on entertaining him with my "cracker tales" (always wanted to write that, it's from Chris Rock) or more accurately "married girl in mid twenties goes to town in San Francisco with friends to: dance, act offended when people go "you're married? what the fuck are you doing here?", try to be "cool" when questioned "you don't dance? what the fuck are you doing here?", dress up, overpay for diluted drinks, try to get free drinks, spite other people, fight for and conquer parking spots, and release the stress of working in a box all week by lining up to go in a crowded box while kinda, sorta trying to look decent jumping in what is basically a body heat sauna after 12am".
"Wanna hear the drama?" - I asked.
He replied "You fought for a parking spot, you got in free, some guy bought drinks and you had to hang out with idiots all night." - "You guys always do the same thing".
"Yeah, but it's sounds more fun when I tell it."
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