I feel compelled to add the following addendum to the G's post about our *rockin* night out last night. Here is some background: I live in a certain area of town that has a certain bar that happens to be right across the street from a certain apartment building where I live. Over the years, I have become a regular. Like, really, really, regular. To the point where my man-friends the bartenders have told me I should take a break and not come back there for a while.
Of course, I've always thought my regular attendance and propensity for high-profile shenanigans was somehow magically invisible to other people. So you can imagine my surprise when, at the bar last night, my bartender friend was DUMBFOUNDED that I wanted a Coke instead of an infanticider (The G will explain). That's right, people, a COKE. STOP THE PRESSES.
For the rest of the evening, in between reading about Jude Law's total sluttiness in People (seriously! he is a sex addict!) and Savage Love in CP (quite a hoot this week - a gross hoot) I was pestered by the bartender. Some excerpts: "Dude, are you pregnant??" and "No, seriously, are you pregnant? Is that why you're not drinking?" and "Tell me. Tell me what is wrong with you." Finally: "This is weird. I just spiked your coke because I can't take it anymore."
Who knew sobriety could lend one such an air of mystery. Also, sobriety can make you pregnant. I'm thinking of running with the rumor just so I can coyly order a beer 'cause, "I'm drinkin' for two."