I hate bars with a twenty-dollar minimum.

So I got home from work yesterday and immediately got into bed because I was tired. I didn't anticipate falling asleep, even though I've taken a nap every afternoon this week. Granted, I started these naps around five o'clock - not six o'clock, which I KNEW was a bad idea. But I was watching Deadwood on my laptop and something about those cussin' cowboys put me right to sleep.

And then I woke up at 10:30. I slept for four hours. I woke up when a friend called to invite me to meet him at a bar, which is the type of invitation I don't turn down, even though I know it's a really stupid decision to go out after sleeping through dinner.

I got to the bar and started a tab and the bald, tattooed lady bartender told me there was a twenty-dollar minimum to open a tab. Thus, my third poor choice of the night, because after my first two five-dollar gin and tonics, which weren't very good to begin with, I thought, "Fuuuuck, I'm drunk but I have to get two more drinks!" Then I got two whiskey sours that came in tiny little cups that everyone thought were cute. And then I could barely stand up.

But joke's on you, lady bartender! Apparently someone else bought my last whiskey sour and my tab came to sixteen dollars! I don't get it, but I like it! Ha!