No, wait. That mess was me.
A long night ended at 440 last night. After all, it seems for me that Thursday is the new Saturday. It should not have taken empirical data for me to know that it is dangerous to mix wine, vodka, and bourbon. Even if it is not in the same glass.
Seriously with the messy.
440 is a great place to be messy and anonymous—not so great to be messy and run into old friends, two exes, a colleague, potentials, and the one that got away.
Lee will be over in the morning, and I'll be hosting him all day until the night's long litany of entertainment begins again.
If I survive Sunday, I'll share about last night.
Woe.
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