This weekend I went back home to Northern Michigan (I hate that song by Kid Rock, btw) to visit family and also because it was a couple of my close friend's birthdays. On Friday night, the bar was a t.o.t.a.l. high school reunion...so that, naturally, involved me avoiding eye contact with many people until I was drunk enough to miss them/want to talk to them. As the night rolled on, I crossed that threshold and, according to many people, I had a wonderful time. The next morning I woke up not feeling as great as I had (allegedly) the night before. Until that is, I checked facebook and saw that I had a message from one of my high school friends [ahem]:
"omg..... lia just told me that last night....after my boyfriend threw my ass in the car...that the two of you ordered shots and you tried to pay for them with your qdoba card. priceless."
DYING. I should note that I am reaaaaaaalllly rich when I'm drunk and I probably shoo'ed away my former classmate's attempts of paying for the shots in a baller-like fashion. Of course I immediately picked up the phone and called my friend to see what the whole story was and she answered the phone laughing hysterically. Apparently, not only did I try and pay for the shots with my qdoba card, but I also ordered said shots by yelling, "bartender! give me two of the strongest shots you've got!!". After the bartender politely noted that they didn't accept the "frequent biters club" from Qdoba as payment, I laughed hysterically and told him that he should reconsider since I had a free burrito coming. Such a triumphant return from the biiiiiig city.
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