Say what you want about my smoking and my drinking, but I have one thing usually going for me in the pro column. I’m pretty damn punctual, most of the time. Due to a lack of sleep and an excess of drinking, my head does, however, fail me on occasion. Which is why at 6pm I was running to a subway, and frantically/apologetically texting Christi that I was going to be late. Now I wasn’t entirely too broken up about the fact that this girl would be pissed that I was late, it was that at 6:30, the drink specials ended and prices doubled.
Not only this, but when I do arrive, Kelly has not secured prime location. She tells me she’s by the door, and I almost immediately want to completely blow her off, but I was late so I suppose it was my due payback. I grab us a pitcher, but part of me doesn’t even want to be there because I hate a crowded bar, and I hate waiting for drinks, hence the pitcher. We talk and I’m staring mostly at the beer, and she more than likely assume I was staring at her chest. I think we both failed each other’s tests. Me with my rare bout of unpunctuality, her with her bar location. She had limited options, but a pretty girl can get away with anything at a bar.
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