Last night was a bit brutal, we celebrated the birthdays of 3 friends. It started off innocently enough, a nice dinner at a great restaurant (The lamb chops were outstanding). From there it was off to the karaoke where we probably scared the natives. There is something quite scary about a large group of drunk foreigners singing Queen (very badly). Then the increasingly drunk horde headed out dancing. This is where things got very.
Now most people will logically ask "Very what?", but gotta leave it at very. There was drama (one I was expecting, the other six or seven that struck were out of the blue), dancing (actually was taught some of the basics of shaking my groove thing), attempted assisted romance (drunk half-Korean friends trying to set you up with someone who is standing next to their boyfriend is a odd experience), and an incident involving being in a occupied stall of the female restroom with no toilet paper (actually reminded of my Navy days at times). This is the point where the group started to dissipate. Suddenly it's just me, a buddy, and 2 Bonny Scottish lasses (sigh, love that accent) and the club is closing and it's off to an after party. Needless to say 9AM rolls around and I am getting back to the apartment.
13 hours of straight celebrating, ach... I may be getting too old for this stuff (of course I always say that, and I charge straight back into the fray the next time).
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