12 October 2007

I love Happy Hour.

Have I ever told y'all how much I love Happy Hour? I do. I love it -- half-price drinks and appetizers? Two-for-ones and $5 appetizers? Free chicken wings? Sign me up! Sometimes it is just a few drinks after work and then home to sober up and get to bed at a decent hour. But there are the happy hours that start after work and continue on through the non-happy hour and you're having so much fun that you're still there when the late-night happy hour starts. Hooray! More cheap drinks.

The Social Worker and I partook in The Imperial Room's happy hour on Wednesday night before we traipsed over to First Ave to see Spoon.

When our bill arrived, I looked up and said, "God, I love happy hour." The Social Worker agreed. I love happy hour so much, I'm going back to the Imperial Room tonight to meet the World's Worst Wing Woman and Macho Man for drinks before we go to see Interpol at the State Theater.

And it's a good thing happy hour is less than seven hours away. I need a motherfucking drink like nobody's damn business.

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