Ever go out for the night with friends and not drink? Me either, until this weekend… when I decided that a little time off the hooch would do my liver (and waistline) some good.

So I arrive at the bar, and immediately, the bartender begins making my drink. Ah, Thomas… my good bartender friend who knows me all too well… okay. I'll have just one. It's early, and heck, I'm not going to be driving for… hours, right?

Cool. So I'm having my third drink, and I look at the dance floor, and there's this… guy?! dancing all by himself on the dancefloor. Okay… dancing overstates. He was sort of doing controlled convulsions. He was of another era… all into the whole 80s look. I sure do love acid-washed jeans with pegged legs! Also, he wore his sunglasses at night, so he could, so he could, keep track of the visions in his eyes… although I expect that the visions were caused by the little packet of stuff that the shady character in the corner slipped to him when he thought nobody was looking. Bah. Who cares? He's enjoying himself, so whatever.

As Thomas poured me my sixth drink, I noticed that the place was beginning to get crowded. I was beginning to to regale people with my (so-called) rapier wit when some of my friends showed up. They offered me shots, but I politely explained I wasn't drinking.

Schnapps sure is good stuff, isn't it? Like liquid candy. I sure do enjoy the cinnamon, even though it sometimes causes me to have what I like to call the Hangover of the Hot Damned because of the sugar, but you never think of that in the bar, do you? We had a nice conversation about our upcoming trip to Dallas for Halloween, and then before I knew it, I had had three. I'm so lucky to have generous friends.

Then, for some reason, I started to get woozy. I think it must have been something I ate, since I wasn't drinking.

I vaguely recall sending a few text messages from my phone to a friend in Phoenix, and then I visited my other friend who works in another bar. I explained that I wasn't drinking tonight, but he had already made my usual, and of course, it would have been rude, right, not to drink it? I never, ever want people to say I'm rude. I saw some other friends, who were very nice to me, and suggested that perhaps I should go home with them and rest. I have to admit that was a good idea, since I was for some reason still a bit light-headed, and my wit was beginning to lose it's rapier-ness.

Once I figured out where I was, I had a great morning… the whole hour of it that was left. My hosts were kind, and we all went out for brunch, where no matter what you've heard, I did not have any mimosas. I sure have a great time when I don't drink!