Tolerance and shoes

It’s official I have lost my once amazing alcohol tolerance. And by amazing I mean back in college I could put back a whole six pack (yep that’s right be amazed) within 6 hours and not feel ill the next day.

I recently found I couldn’t do that anymore. The other night I went out with a friend, I had one gin and tonic and another beer and a half, in the span of five hours and I was spinning. And the next morning I awoke to a pounding head and rolling stomach. What the hell?

But I’ve decided instead of getting upset about this and drinking myself into oblivion (half a beer), I will take this as my body’s way of trying to save money. No longer will I have to buy a bunch of beers to get a good buzz, nope instead I can just smell my friends’ beverage and be on my merry way.

Anyways on to the night of my pathetic showing. We started out at a rather trendy bar near my place, where a strong gin and tonic had me kind of wobbly (or it was the shoes that are smidge too big but super cute). We didn’t stay there long.

Then we were on to one of two decent English pubs in San Jose. The service there is horrible, but at least it’s consistently horrible every time we go and sadly I think it’s my favorite place in SJ. And I’m pissed because we saw what was the beginning of a good row, but had to move to the back because there was an open table and you can’t just pass up prime real estate at a crowded pub, and I’ve already mentioned that my shoes were too big.

Anyways we sat down and were joined by another friend, and then another and then by the band that didn’t open for the band that played music in the park but that was the second band to play, and then by the girl that goes around the country to different festivals doing henna tattoos, and finally by a really gay man that seemed to be hitting on every women there.

I was kind of stuck in the corner, and therefore couldn’t get away. Stuck in the corner across from the pseudo-gay man who kept talking about his art and how capitalism is ruining it for everyone and would I like to see pictures of some of his work? Dear God NO! I’d rather stick this hot-curry drenched fork in my eye and swirl it around.

“Um, OK” Wait what? That was not what I meant to say.

I mean who brings their portfolio to a bar anyways? So now I’m leafing through what seems to be a five year old’s finger paintings with wires stuck through them at random intervals.

“That one is a memorial to Sept. 11.” Pointing to what looks to be puked up blueberry jello and a butterfly. What the fuck was with the butterfly?

At this point I realize I’m about to start screaming, so I stand on the bench and vault over it just to get away. I give myself a 7.5 for creativity but I just couldn’t stick the landing (shoes again, not my balance). I’m not always that subtle. But realizing that might seem kind of mean I turn and say.

“Um, I need to find my friend.” Yes because that will fool him, what with the acrobatics and everything. Ok actually he’s an idiot and probably thought nothing of it.

Finally we left that den of retardedness and headed to more of a dive. Here there were a bunch of rockabilly chicks trying to look hard, hot and anti-establishment all at the same time while basically only pulling off the I-have-cleavage-please-stare-at-it look and the oh-so-popular no-that’s-not-a-tattoo-I-just-haven’t-showered-in-a-couple-of-days (yay hyphens!).

Then we headed home. At this part of the night I became very wobbly, I think my shoes were actually getting bigger. I finally made it home but I fell out of my shoes twice, I swear they basically fit when I left.