(no subject)
Only I can get hungover from two over-priced drinks. I probably should have just sat down at a slot machine, and enjoyed the small - yet free - complimentary drinks, instead of paying out the ass for them.
I walked up to the bar a few minutes before Emerson Drive went on, and ordered a Mudslide (which was the worst one I ever had, by the way). The woman was so condescending.
"How old are you, honey?"
"Over 21."
Pause.
"I'm 24."
"Can I see your ID?"
Now let's think about this... I'm in the middle of the fucking casino. You have to be 21 to be in there. I walked past plenty of casino security/ID checkers, without getting asked for ID. If I looked that you, don't you think I would have been asked by someone before I got to the bar? Bitch.
The bar actually had a great view of the stage, so I decided to stay there to watch Emerson Drive. God, I love them. They put on such a fun show. They didn't play a couple of songs I was hoping to hear, but that's okay. It was still an amaazing show. They are playing a "fair" here in a couple of weeks...definitely need to go.
Towards the end of their set, I decided to get a Cherry Vodka Sour. I avoided the bitch and got a cool bartender. He said next one was on him, and I thanked him and said that was it for me for the night.
So I finish my drink, and was completely fine for the rest of the show.
As I'm walking to my car afterwards, the alcohol starts to hit me. I get all the way across the casino to the elevator for the parking garage, when I decide I'm not sure if it's a good idea to drive. I could walk straight, and could see straight, but I wasn't feeling like it. So I walk all the way back to the food court to get a slice of pizza and a soda. I was feeling a lot better after that.
Two drinks. My God - such a lightweight.
I walked up to the bar a few minutes before Emerson Drive went on, and ordered a Mudslide (which was the worst one I ever had, by the way). The woman was so condescending.
"How old are you, honey?"
"Over 21."
Pause.
"I'm 24."
"Can I see your ID?"
Now let's think about this... I'm in the middle of the fucking casino. You have to be 21 to be in there. I walked past plenty of casino security/ID checkers, without getting asked for ID. If I looked that you, don't you think I would have been asked by someone before I got to the bar? Bitch.
The bar actually had a great view of the stage, so I decided to stay there to watch Emerson Drive. God, I love them. They put on such a fun show. They didn't play a couple of songs I was hoping to hear, but that's okay. It was still an amaazing show. They are playing a "fair" here in a couple of weeks...definitely need to go.
Towards the end of their set, I decided to get a Cherry Vodka Sour. I avoided the bitch and got a cool bartender. He said next one was on him, and I thanked him and said that was it for me for the night.
So I finish my drink, and was completely fine for the rest of the show.
As I'm walking to my car afterwards, the alcohol starts to hit me. I get all the way across the casino to the elevator for the parking garage, when I decide I'm not sure if it's a good idea to drive. I could walk straight, and could see straight, but I wasn't feeling like it. So I walk all the way back to the food court to get a slice of pizza and a soda. I was feeling a lot better after that.
Two drinks. My God - such a lightweight.