Returns Only

I spiffed up my Grimley hair into something sufficiently punk and Hubster and I went out last night. We ran into some friends who had just gotten engaged. This led to us staying out later than we usually do (almost midnight as opposed to our usual 10.30) and freaked our babysitter into calling us to make sure we were coming home! Bad us! We had a lovely time.

The bar we ended up at usually has a fairly interesting crowd, but this evening it was further enlivened by the presence of all the people who had lost interest in the Gay Bingo Party (that's what it said on the marquee) next door. Apparently, the ability to consume indecent amounts of shots is a prerequisite for Gay Bingo parties, because the shots were flowing fast and free. Random strangers would walk into the bar and start sending shots around. I only had one, but I had a couple of beers as well. In my partying days, this would have been no problem. However, those days are over. I haven't had a shot getting pregnant. I had a rather Big Head today until a visit to the greasy hamburger mecca of Jake's has cured my malaise.

This all reminds me of a cartoon I used to keep on my desk. I will try to find it and scan it, but until then, it features a man in the Returns line at a department store. He says, "I'd like to return to the days when I could stay out all night partying and still go to work in the morning. Here's my receipt."