...Broom Closet Makeout

My night on Thursday began with the image to the left. And it ended with a makeout with a restaurant manager in the broom closet at his fine establishment around 5am. What transpired in between to lead me from fancy to floozy in roughly 6 hours? Booze, my dear readers, booze. Also a bit of Broadway and some interesting bacon guacamole, but mostly booze.

These adventures begin late Wednesday night when my brother's BFF from CA (we'll call him Sean) met up with me both pre- and post-show. The night's journey began with beer towers, had a pit stop at a piano bar with Cement Mixer shots (woof!), and then finished at the happy hour spot of the famed broom closet. Mr. Broom Closet was so generous and welcoming on Wed. night, buying our drinks and hanging out. Laying the groundwork, indeed!

I woke up Thurs morning to a post-barf scenario. Sean crashed on my pullout couch an managed to wake up puking at 6am. He tried to clean up and then took off with a bag of barfy blankets. He also managed to lose his cell phone on the cab home, so he was really winning on all fronts.

Oddly, I was in perfect shape that morning. Amateur!

Anyway, I survive the day at work while Sean doubles back to my apt in search of the phone (didn't yet know he lost it in the cab), so I get to call both my doorman and cleaning lady to inform them my "friend" left his phone at my apartment. And I'm sure they knew it was platonic, right? Sean doesn't find the phone, so he is now the proud owner of my old Palm Treo.

Thurs night started off mellow--I even wondered if I'd stay out late that evening. And then...5 frozen margs, 7 shots (of Patron AND Jameson), and 4 beers later, it's no wonder I found myself in a broom closet makeout session. And yes, I did knock a broom down the stairs, so it's a legit moniker.

Moral of the story? Just when you least expect it booze will separate the weak from the strong and reward the survivors with a broom closet makeout.