Wednesday, March 31, 2010

Racing for Happy Hour

We were racing back to the hotel for happy hour. We were on foot. We were lost. We were sweating through our clothes. We were red-faced. We were sunburned. We were tired. Nobody seemed able to provide good directions. Nobody could straighten us out. Nobody could help. Happy hour was now almost halfway over. I looked up into the sky, and determined which way was north by the position of the sun as it related to the time of day. The sun rises in the east and sets in the west. Don’t forget it. We re-oriented ourselves on the city map and took off. We made it. We crashed through the door, red-faced, sweaty, exhausted, irritable, and thirsty. Five minutes left for free drinks. The only free booze left was red wine, some shitty beers, and champagne. Nothing I’d really want, but I drank as much as I could as quickly as I could, because I’d earned it.

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