It's not often when I can wake up from a late night spent storming the dance floor, jazzing to retro tunes, crawling into bed at 4am with a gigantic smile and sense of satisfaction, and say that alcohol was not involved. But in light of my recent flirtation with stone-cold sobriety in the company of the charmingly inebriated, I though I would share a few need-to-be-said observations.
1. Ladies wearing shirt-dresses and tights make beautiful wallflowers, but the moment they start getting frisky, that shirt-dress becomes a shirt, and those black tights become your bottoms, and your bottoms are mostly transparent (you do to the math).
2. Any girl worth her stripes can sport a boy on the prowl from a mile a way. He, entertainingly, has a harder time spotting her disinterest.
3. I like enthusiastic dancers, but not the bruises they leave on my feet.
4. Birthday requests can be fun, but Sunday Bloody Sunday is not a very danceable choice.
I suppose there's a lot more you'll let slide when you've had a few drinks and things start to become peculiar. Maybe it's a rule that you write it off, maybe it's instantly forgotten, or maybe it's just something that's not to be talked about because what happens in that dirty-hole-in-the-ground-go-to-bar stays in that dirty-hole-in-the-ground-go-to-bar. If so, please forgive my momentary lapse in etiquette.