So yeah, figured I should take a few minutes out of my Saturday afternoon to blog about Thursday night. Now let me say that I was pretty sure it wasn't really just going to be a quiet birthday dinner for friends or anything, but I will say that I didn't expect to show up to work drunk for the second time in a week.
All I knew about the restaurant going in is that it was called "Yipiyiyo", which with the pronunciation in my head, I kind of thought was going to be some quaint little Japanese place. Turned out it's pronounced "Yipi-YAYE-o" (sorry I don't think that actually helped, but hopefully someone got it) and I knew I was in trouble when a drag queen came down the stairs and started singing Dusty Springfield songs. Technically I should have known I was in trouble when I finished my own bottle of wine in the first 60 minutes and started drinking everyone elses, but what can I say, I'm a slow learner.
Of course afterwards we headed off to a bar, where it never occurred to me that slamming down a beer every 10 minutes might end in me acting like a complete and utter jerk. Nonetheless, I woke up the next morning trashed yet again and genuinely wondering why anyone invites me to anything. Seriously, how do I have friends?
Fortunately my company directors forgot I was supposed to have my formal review on Friday, although they did call me out for being drunk/hungover at work again. In the U.S. it would be grounds for dismissal, but here in OZ it pretty much means you're due for a raise. Someone's gotta pay for the fuckin' beer...
Now if you'll all excuse me, I need to get ready for the Snoop Dogg concert. Hawt.