I got drunk last night, again. I swear to God, I'm going to find the time to write a blog about the different kinds of booze I've tried and the judgment I pass onto them. I think that may cure my ailment when it comes to alcohol: I'd be more of a connoisseur rather than a kanto boy drunkard (this is not meant to be offensive, seriously, there's been a phase in my life that my friends and I would prefer to drink on the streets.)
The story behind that is I was trying to distance myself from a dude here at the field office. He was from another department so I rarely see him and vice versa. But when he does see me, he comes up and make jokes about flirting. Yea, he's gay, I said. No big deal. I have encounters with gay people, they are a good bunch, happy and vocal about things. But, the thing is, he always ran his arm over my shoulder. Akbay, hagod, haplos. Rinse and repeat.
"Uhh, okay, dude. Please get your hands off me. That's enough horsing around." Talk about awkward moment in the office. The other peeps laughed at it, I did, too, politely. But it gave me the creeps. Okay, I really am not homophobic or anything but something tells me it isn't a joke anymore. And to save myself from further awkward and quite frankly, uncomfortable moments like that happening any moment, I decided to go with some co-workers to get plastered. And we did. And I'm glad I did.
Gay people, I'm sorry if any of you reading this may find it offensive. I've written this entry to the best of my ability to keep it sensitive and fair. Other straight people do that shit A LOT. I've nothing against you. I'm just glad I made a decision to let that thing go.
Aaaand, back to boozing. Yea, I got plastered really good. I woke up in the morning feeling like a dried sponge out of sea. Felt porous as if all the moisture was sucked out of me. Aaaand I managed to sleep until 5am with just my boxers on and the damn cold woke me up. And this gnawing, pulsating pain around the back of my neck, I wonder how I got it?
As for the drinks we had last night, a liter and another small bottle of brandy did the first few kicks. Then we washed it off with light beer, two buckets of it, poorly chilled might I add. The crispy tofu and betamax was great.
And I am just whiling away. Waiting for my clock to tell me "It's time to go home."