When Walls Come Tumbling Down
I think I'm a pretty reserved person. I have my comfort zone that is behind the facade I show most of the world. I let a few folks into my private thoughts but most of the time I'm a pretty controlled person.
Then I have a few drinks.
And those walls come a'tumbling down. And then I laugh. A lot.
You' think I'd know this by now. Sadly, I'm a fairly new drinker. And I only drink with those I know well and trust. Well, most of the time. A few years ago a group of moms went to Mi Ranchos for taquitos and margaritas. I couldn't figure out why my glass never emptied. That's because my friend next to me kept filling it up every time I turned around. That was a fun night that ended up with a bunch of servers putting a huge sombrero on my head and singing happy birthday to me. That was in July. My birthday is in January. I was very confused but giggly.
Then there was the night of sangria. I don't like wine as a general rule. I liked the white sangria. A lot. I'm pretty sure I drank a pitcher by myself. The metro ride home was loud. Because of me. I laughed and laughed until I could barely breathe. Thankfully I was with friends who made sure I did start to breathe again. While I consider those two good friends, I don't think they've ever seen me so uninhibited. And giggly.
Then there's last night. I had TWO beers. Yep, that's right. I ordered a beer. All by myself without having to ask my friend what it is that I drink. By the time the second one came I was already starting to laugh. Pretty soon my friends were all involved in conversations and I was just laughing. Giggling.
The moral of this story? My protective walls are easily broken with a few drinks. Maybe that's not entirely a bad thing. I woke up this morning with a slight feeling of dread thinking about some of the things I said last night. Nothing bad - just more revealing than I care to be normally. But just thinking of it makes me giggle all over again. Maybe the moral of the story should be that I need to drink more. Yeah, I'll go with that one. But only when my friends are around.
Then I have a few drinks.
And those walls come a'tumbling down. And then I laugh. A lot.
You' think I'd know this by now. Sadly, I'm a fairly new drinker. And I only drink with those I know well and trust. Well, most of the time. A few years ago a group of moms went to Mi Ranchos for taquitos and margaritas. I couldn't figure out why my glass never emptied. That's because my friend next to me kept filling it up every time I turned around. That was a fun night that ended up with a bunch of servers putting a huge sombrero on my head and singing happy birthday to me. That was in July. My birthday is in January. I was very confused but giggly.
Then there was the night of sangria. I don't like wine as a general rule. I liked the white sangria. A lot. I'm pretty sure I drank a pitcher by myself. The metro ride home was loud. Because of me. I laughed and laughed until I could barely breathe. Thankfully I was with friends who made sure I did start to breathe again. While I consider those two good friends, I don't think they've ever seen me so uninhibited. And giggly.
Then there's last night. I had TWO beers. Yep, that's right. I ordered a beer. All by myself without having to ask my friend what it is that I drink. By the time the second one came I was already starting to laugh. Pretty soon my friends were all involved in conversations and I was just laughing. Giggling.
The moral of this story? My protective walls are easily broken with a few drinks. Maybe that's not entirely a bad thing. I woke up this morning with a slight feeling of dread thinking about some of the things I said last night. Nothing bad - just more revealing than I care to be normally. But just thinking of it makes me giggle all over again. Maybe the moral of the story should be that I need to drink more. Yeah, I'll go with that one. But only when my friends are around.
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