The Lightweight Champion of NJ is......

Me!

Oooo, my achin' head. Last Night I went out with my friend Bob for dinner, a "bromance" if you will, hopefully you won't. We ate at this place he raves about. It's got a Tex-Mex, Santa Fe Kinda vibe, but slightly upscale. As it was a BYOB he brought some red. He's a big fan of the vino, and a bit of a connoisseur, me not at all. 

In keeping with the celebratory theme of nothing in particular, I indulged a wee bit. I'm not a fan of wine, being undignified and all. Wine (red especially) quickly gives me a stomach ache for reasons that are unknown to me. White is OK, but I always preferred the Zin, but have not had it for sometime as it is apparently VERY uncool for a guy to drink it. Being born somewhat uncool, I don't want to perpetuate it by drinking sweet pinkish alcohol.

 Bob ordered and enjoyed a Salmon dish, whilst I chose a chicken dish which was not so enjoyable. Since it wasn't a date and he most likely wouldn't be putting out, we went "Dutch" and split the bill.  From there we decided to check out a relatively new "trendy" bar down the road a spell. It was pretty crowded and noisy, but we decided to tough it out. Finally seated, we each chose a glass of an overpriced Port. While not much of a drinker, I'm a fan of Port wines, tho they tend to be very sweet and syrupy. If you haven't had Port before, I kinda equate it with Robitussin, NyQuil, or something of that ilk, just less medicinal tasting.

A friend of mine stopped by to take advantage of my generosity knowing I would pay for drinks 'cause she's a chick, and you girls know how to work it. One drink lead to two, which lead to me drinking half of my friends glass of Port as well while he was distracted by my friend who seemed to be mildly annoying him, and getting on his nerves. We left about forty five minutes later.

I felt perfectly fine to drive, but then again in twenty five years I've locked up my share of drunks who most likely felt the same way. I felt a little warm and fuzzy, but in control. I'm kinda big on control so if I'm not feeling that way I would have (hopefully) been responsible and made other arrangements. After blacking out briefly and driving on the wrong side of the road for a mile or two, (perfectly acceptable in England) I dropped him at his car. Fortunately for him he went inside his studio for a bit to sober up- and they call me the lightweight!

Now I'm at work, typing this post in a shroud of alcohol fueled haze, or is that fog. I barely made it through the day, but toughed it out. I'm a man for crap sake! Once again another night of debauchery and hedonism goes unchecked and off the hook!

Hopefully I learned my lesson, possibly not. Bartender cut me off! Shirley Temple here stopped tap dancin' hours ago!