Today, I am thankful for Tums, Gatorade, and Pepto Bismol. Seriously. Mama drank too many martinis last night.
On the good side, I was the freaking life of the party. On the bad side, I woke up around 5 AM and realized that I was still drunk. Oops.
We had a blast last night. We went to this new restaurant downtown that is supposed to be a pseudo-Irish pub (but really other than a few Irish dishes it's kind of a misnomer) and has a great atmosphere. Not to mention the bar area had a really cool vibe to it. Great martinis. Oh yeah, I kind of alluded to that already. Well, they were good. Too good.
On the good side, I didn't get sick on the way home like I thought I would. On the bad side, I felt like total ass this morning.
But a little breakfast on my stomach and getting a nap this morning really helped. I feel better - tired, but better. We had left my car in valet parking last night and caught a ride home with Jay and Harry (she didn't drink since she's pregnant) so we had to head back downtown to get the car. We ate at one of our favorite haunts and had possibly the worst waiter ever. Which seems to be a constant theme for us sometimes.
And the tattoos? No one got one last night. Honestly, I can't think of something I would want to put on my body forever. My ex-sister-in-law has, at last count, 14 tattoos of varying sizes - and the ones she got pre-pregnancy are less than attractive. I used to tease her that the rose she had on her right breast would eventually turn into a long-stemmed rose. Blech.
A few months ago, we were on our way to a football game and we decided to stop for breakfast at a Huddle House restaurant. If you've never been to a Huddle House (and I was a HH virgin), it's like the ghetto version of Waffle House. I suspect that the dinner menu is probably a little bit better than Waffle House, but the breakfast menu is surprisingly small.
So as we were sitting in the booth waiting on our breakfast, we noticed this couple come in. It was pretty obvious that they were dating and from all appearances they looked like they'd probably been out all night. They were in their late 40's to early 50's, I think. They were sitting at the counter and at one point the woman got up to go to the restroom, which was located behind our booth. As she walked by, I was struck by two distinct features. First, she was wearing this cabbage-rose sweater, circa 1984 that was cropped and showed off her muffin-top. Second, she had a tattoo on her lower back - what we would commonly refer to as a tramp stamp.
There was something different about this tramp stamp though. It was the face of a cat - two eyes, nose, mouth, and whiskers. And it took up half of her back.
I just about choked on my drink. The only thing I could think of and kept running through my head the entire time - I wonder if she had a disclaimer tattoo somewhere that said "the real pussy is on the other side"?