...And A Risque Mouth

Kimberly! Dammit! I hate you! WHAT DID YOU DO TO ME!? I love you.

Meghan. Um, I'm sorry. Well, kind of, but not really, because it was good to hear you laugh for like, 15 minutes straight.

iTunes! I missed you so! Now gimme my shit!

Last night, Kimberly called me at work and said, "Wanna get a bite?" She'd had a bad day. I suggested Stout, which is across the street from my workplace. We met and she said, "I have to have a martini." And then I said, "You go ahead and have a martini." Because, you know, with the whole sugar thing, I am also "not drinking." But then the waitress said, "Can I get you ladies started with any drinks?" And Kimberly said, "I'll have a Grey Goose dirty martini and she'll have a Jameson and-"

"No!"

"Oh, come on! One drink."

"Kimberly! Fine, I'll have a glass of red wine, please. BUT JUST ONE!"

My mouth said that. And it was my mouth that received the contents of that glass. And the "LAST" glass after that. In between, my mouth took some wings (dammit! they were so good and spicy, though!) and some salad.

And then some more wine, despite the fact that while it was receiving this wine, my mouth was saying things like: "No!" "I'm NOT drinking anymore!" "Who ordered another round?" "Kim. No." and finally, "I'm leaving after this one."

Other things said by mouths that will remain unidentified:

"That's right! It's Fleet Week! How are you, my friend?"
-upon the arrival of an unknown Seaman, who walked up to greet two ladies eating salads (and fighting over just how much alcohol was being consumed).

"I like Seaman. Especially on my - - - - and my - - - -. You've never heard that one before!"
"No, but I've seen it. And I'm not surprised!"
-upon the departure of Seaman Christopher Ryan of Rochester, NY, who walked up to greet two ladies eating salads (whose eyes sparkled at the reminder that this weekend is, indeed, Fleet Week).

"You just need to - - - - and get it over with."
-Believe it or not, this was actually at the BEGINNING of the night.

"I find it quite offensive, actually."
"But...you're Irish!"
"Most Irish find it offensive."
"Well, I'm American. I do not find 'cunt' offensive."
-conversation with an Irishman named Martin, who would later solve a dilemma for one of the two ladies who had been eating salads but moved to the bar(...twice).

"Did you see? The Red Sox are losing."
"You're an asshole!"
"Takes one to know one!"
-exchange between another Irishman and one of the ladies who had been eating salads (and whose dilemma was solved...twice).

"MEGHAAAAAN!"
"Uh oh. ARE YOU DRUNK?"
"Yes! AND! I just fixed the toilet! It was broke, and I fixed it for them!"
"Why?"
"Because it was BROKE!"
"Ah, I see."
-exchange between a lady who had been eating a salad and then had to powder her nose.

"Hey, your debit card came and it's on the table with the other mail."
"Awesome. I'm bombed. I have to go to bed. I'm sorry. G'night!"
-exchange between the dilemma-less lady who had been eating a salad and miraculously made it home on auto-pilot.

"Do you remember his name?"
"Um...no..."
"It was Martin, right?"
"Yes! Yes, it was Martin!"
"I just said, 'Ciao.'"
"But it was good?"
"It was very good. I needed that. Now I don't have to call M--- this weekend."
"Or, you know...whatever."
-telephone exchange this morning between the two ladies who ate salads yesterday and then marveled at the sheer volume of alcohol consumed in such a short span of time.