Dangers of early evening drunk punting
A few days ago, I went out with a few buddies and had a quite a few drinks in the early afternoon. They had to call it a day and it was too early for me to call it an evening and I didn't want to drink by myself either. So of course, somehow, my legs carried me off to the nearest taxi, and my mouth decided to give a location that wasn't my home. Get out taxi in CWB next thing I know, I'm up Hop Yee without shoulder checking because I am now invincible due to the alcohol impairing my brain. Usually I err on the side of caution a little bit more than this but no harm no foul.
I don't remember which floor or apt I got to and in any case, I'm not going to review it since as far as I can remember, it was decent and average and much like what you would come to expect from Hop Yee and nothing spectacular nothing disappointing. In fact, perhaps since I was not exactly smelling like a rose, I should probably give an extra point or two since they still accomodated me but again, this isn't a review.
Now, the bad part is this. I hopped a taxi back to home. Wife was sitting on the sofa watching TV. I just then noticed that it is waaay early, wife wasn't even close to sleeping and this was not my normal protocol of coming home from punting. Mistake #1. I take off my jacket hang it up and proceed to beeline to the washroom but not trying to make it too obvious that I'm nervous about anything. As I'm walking towards the bathroom and I am about 3 meters cleared of my wife, she goes I thought you were drinking with the boys? I say, ya...I was...we called it early. Usually she doesn't interrogate so by now I'm sure there's something wrong. Then she goes, where'd you go? I immediately think of a lie because I'm thinking...shit! I must smell like a drunk perfumed flower! I lie and say at the Mariott. She goes....usually you smell like a cigarette dump after drinking, this place probably doesn't let you smoke inside...I mumble....ya...XXXX's wife (no we didn't go drinking with anyone's wife but this was my exit) doesn't smoke so we just drank at the Mariott this time. (in case I get called on why I smell like a girl. this made up wife gave me a made up hug and probably came from there) but since the conversation ended there I think I lied myself out of certain doom!
I swear. I don't know what's more exciting. The act of punting itself or the getting caught with your hand in the cookie jar and trying to explain your way out of it! | |
