I was all primed to pop up here this week with stories of drunken debauchery, I promise. My best friend Cap was in town - my first Tampa visitor - and we was gonna do the damn thang. However, fate did not cooperate.
Don't get me wrong. Alcohol was consumed in copious amounts for three days. It's just that nothing all that story-worthy happened, which is exceedingly rare for us. I mean, we headed straight out Friday night after he got into town, and after a delicious meal at Five Guys, met up with a ladyfriend of mine at an upscale bar and restaurant and dove right into some rum.
However, things were getting a little pricy there so we dipped out on our own and ended up at my spot ... of course. Then the booze started flowing and we ended up macking a pair of Puerto Rican dancers who happened to be cousins.
But nothing outrageous happened. No police, no physical damage, no crazy women, nothing. We kicked it hard, had some laugh, smacked some asses and passed out when we got home. I woke up the next day and was a bit disappointed. Are we getting old? Maybe.
The next couple days were much more laidback: drinks by the pool, drinks by the beach, etc.
I'm not complaining. We definitely had fun, but it was a much more lowkey fun than usual. Financials had a bit to do with it - we dropped damn near $300 combined in his first six hours in town - but I make no excuses. I failed the On The Rocks Faithful.
Guess this means me and Defi really have to crank it up in a couple weeks. Until then, I await his stories from Saturday night. Defi?
1 comment:
I hate you.
Post a Comment