After numerous votes from among the framilies, Foxy is the clear winner. She got to meet the DL folks last night, and had a lovely time. The Director showed as well, and immediately began to help plan our next pub crawl, scheduled post-election. We’ll either celebrate or drown our sorrows, but dammit we’re gonna drink! The rugby team rolled in at the end of our evening, and I think they may have felt a tad neglected. I did speak, though, so they can’t hold that against me.
Foxy and The Director and I rolled on up the street to Hookah Joe’s, which perhaps should not be as perplexing as it is. They have 50 different flavors, but there is no menu card. When you ask the hookah man what he has, he just says “50 different flavors.” This isn’t very helpful. The Director was frantically calling people to join us, so that she would feel less like she had intruded upon our date. She hadn’t intruded upon our date, she was in fact a welcome addition, cause she’s fun, but I understand that awkward feeling, since I’ve had it pretty much constantly for the last year and a half.
My throat hurts today, and I think it is because a hookah is better shared amongst 6 people than 3. Especially when one person leaves early and there are just two of you sitting on a couch. And by “sitting on a couch” I mean wishing you weren’t In Public.
Posted in Drinking Liberally, Friends
