And the worst shoes known to man. The shoes lacked grip on any surface including rubber lined stairs. That's right. When I slipped on the stairs I was neither tipsy nor on ice. I fell, causing bruises on my left arm, leg, and ass cheek on rubber stairs, inside a building, before imbibing any drinks. I'm so awesome.
We dined at Boston Burger where I was peer pressured to try sweet potato french fries (which I refused) then visited the Diva Lounge because K wanted to use their pod shaped bathrooms. We sat and ordered a round of drinks and were enjoying friendly conversation when a gruff, mafia looking man with a leather hat, coat, and gloves stepped up to our table. He was as wide as he was tall and demanded to see ID from L (even though we were carded when we ordered.) He did not introduce or identify himself and we were all taken aback. Eventually he said he was the door man and that L looked too young.
Long story short, the bartender witnessed this exchange and spent the evening trying to make it up to us. L got a couple free beers and we all enjoyed a round of free fruity shots.
When we were ready to leave, this crazy girl got up and on the way to the bathroom came up to our table and said, "Didn't your mom ever teach you it was rude to stare?" Um...I was just trying to get the bartender's attention PSYCHO!
To round out the night we had a few more drinks, danced to a live band, watched T have a "defensive conversation" about her job with a random guy trying to hit on K and managed to navigate the narrow, snowy streets out of the city.
Today I spent most of the day in bed/on the couch trying to avoid contact with my bruises and blisters. As my mom pointed out, I am getting old and falling down is becoming a much bigger deal than when I was 20.
Boo old age.