Bad Dad

Brett called me at work at four yesterday to tell me he and my pop were at 1-Stop. At five, he called me back to say we’d all be stopping at The Dew Drop for a beer.

I got off work, rolled to Lib’ville, and had a cocktail. Then I had another. Then Brett took off. Dad and I stayed and chatted with Harry and Carla for awhile.

Then my damn dad bought me another cocktail. Three Dew Drop cocktails!

We went home, I heated up leftover kicheree and made a huge salad, we ate, and I was passed out by 8:30.

EIGHT-THIRTY, people.

Which is bad, because I woke up at 1:30 and was awake until 4:30. Ugh.
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