Ramblings of a drunk night

Saturday at the artichoke festival. WAS it festive? The country band playing is well known , and in a venue that can hold hundreds, maybe 40 people stood about. One man used the country vibe as a way to be openly silly, grabby…trying to get girls to dance with him. Was it his grey hair or red cheeks that turned the young girls smiles into frowns?

Unknown red wine washed down fried artichoke hearts. Made my heart smile. Later, my head would burst at the sounds of morning. Not one to drink in public I regretted the swishing of fruity zap on my tongue. This guilt wouldnt stop me from  making the same mistake later on that very night.

So, we took our party to Baja Cantina & Grill where live reggae band was playing. My favorite genre of music left me uninhibited- so I had another wine. twenty-three and yet to have ordered an actual drink from a bar. So with confidence in my blood I boldy brazened up to the bar. Seems the bartender favored me to my company, filling only my glass to the brim.

And the four glasses to come would all be just as full, spilling over as I walked back to my table. Looking back now- I wonder if how much I spilled was an indication of how many sheets to the wind I was becoming with every sip. In such a good and vibing environment noone seemed to notice, or didn’t care. Or maybe I couldnt see  they had noticed.

I was bound to be noticed eventually though- dancing to the music, letting free. Something that doesn’t come easily to me. I became spontaneous, getting every one round to join in on my new dance move, “Come on guys-wing it!”

I was happily surprised to see all but one person smile and go with it.

The night ended in tears and confusion. As I’m sure many drunk nights do. The intoxicating lure can pull you in where you don’t want to let go of letting go. Through the night my biggest memory is the look on that one persons face who didn’t join in on “winging it”. A look I can’t shake.


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