Drunk people don't spill
In the state where you've had enough alcohol, but somehow feel desperate for just one more drink, I triumphantly walked to the table in my host's living room, which was garnished with a bottle or two of liquor and some exciting mixers (cream soda?! sooo exciting).
I skillfully poured about a shot into a cup, then reached for the cream soda. My back turned to the vodka, I suddenly felt a freezing cold liquid spill on my skirt. I swung around, angry. "What the fuck?!!! Who spilled this on me?" I looked at the closest logical person, my roommate. She looked confused.
"What?"
"Someone spilled the vodka on me! What the hell!"
"Um, it wasn't me."
"Okay, then who was it?" I looked around. The roommate was the closest person to the table, and she was sitting down about 2 feet away.
... I still swear I didn't do it.
I skillfully poured about a shot into a cup, then reached for the cream soda. My back turned to the vodka, I suddenly felt a freezing cold liquid spill on my skirt. I swung around, angry. "What the fuck?!!! Who spilled this on me?" I looked at the closest logical person, my roommate. She looked confused.
"What?"
"Someone spilled the vodka on me! What the hell!"
"Um, it wasn't me."
"Okay, then who was it?" I looked around. The roommate was the closest person to the table, and she was sitting down about 2 feet away.
... I still swear I didn't do it.
Labels: drunk
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