Lindsay Marks 6 p.m., Dec. 5
Not even half past nine o'clock's ass and we've got our first entry. This one tests the line between self-control and self-indulgence.
It's always interesting to watch and hear the decision making process, especially when you're not involved. Or drunk. The brain must be firing synapse after synapse, shot after shot. Oh, to be a fly on the wall of those frontal lobes. But I digress.
While enjoying a nicotine fix, two ladies, I'd say in their upper 20s, low 30s, had obviously left the bar and were now walking- check that, stumbling towards their exit vehicle. As they get to the corner, approximately 15 feet from where I'm standing but directly in front of the restaurant/bar I live on top of, one of them sees a sign that boasts a late-night happy hour starting at 10pm.
DRUNK #1: Should we wait? I mean, that's only (staring at her watch)... uh... (still staring at her watch)
DRUNK #2: I think 30 minutes.
DRUNK #1: Yeah, 30 minutes. Wow. That's a long time.
DRUNK #2: But three dollar drafts and four dollar wines....
DRUNK #1: I know, right?
DRUNK #2: I mean, I don't know. Are you good?
DRUNK #1: Good? As in drunk?
DRUNK #2: Yeah. 'Cause I'm drunk.
DRUNK #1: So you're good?
DRUNK #2: Well....
Needless to say, they stumbled in to the restaurant, maybe a little early but definitely on time. They're good. And drunk. Wait... is that the same thing?