"My left is......"

Not much to say except that, I went out Friday night. That should be enough intro to this post. Here we go:

Friday night I braved the elements, said eff it, and went out for some Melissa shoulder shaking and refreshing beverages. We all know where all this magic took place, so no need to say.

The beginning:
As soon as I walk into the place, sliiiipppp and near death ass bust. Seriously, those floors are deadly, especially when its raining out. Maybe ill be nice and buy them a mop to prevent such incidents.

Right after the beginning:

I think I mustve hit my homegirls drink with my phone and hand about 4 times after we left the bar and went to sit down. I felt something was coming. And it did. I moved back in my seat and spiiiiiiiilllllllllllllllll, vodka/cranberry all over the place. Wouldn't have been too bad, except for the fact that it spilled all over this dudes's coat and when he picked up he did not look too happy. In my defense, this is why coat checks were invented, to protect you from such incidents. I shouldve told him the story of how once someone puked on my coat and I had to walk from 10th avenue to 7th avenue in 10 degree weather in a dress and no coat on. Maybe he wouldve felt better. Prob not, but wouldnt have hurt.

The middle:

For some reason there was this dude who felt the need to be all up in my convo with my homegirl every time he passed by. He got the "cute, but weird" award of the night. At one point he may as well have been sitting in between us and contributing to the convo. Nosey-Rosie.
Then there were a bunch of people doing some kind of rain dance next to us and they smelled so bad I was about to go get my scarf and pull a ninja. People, please practice good hygiene and do the world a favor. If anything, Ill do you a favor and give you my 40 off discount at Rickys. Please.

Almost time to go:

As I was coming back from the bathroom, this dude standing near it goes "Shawty so nice, I dont mean polite, yeah you." Not gonna lie, that was kinda funny and he gets a B for effort.

The end:
The end I can not speak of because it is between my homegirl, me and the elevator guy. That's all.

I have come to the conclusion that a Friday night would really not be complete without some sort of Melissa r'tard moment happening. I know, I always say that, but this time I truly believe it. While I complain, it really does provide entertainment not just for you guys, but for myself. Ah well.