Debauchery

The other day I needed to find a Wachovia in order to cash a check, so my Sweetheart and I went to Manhattan. We got caught in the rain, and decided to grab a bite and a beer and wait it out. It was a nice little place where we split a bleu cheese burger with bacon and had a pint each. Uh, oh. That got the siphon going. After we found a Wachovia and I made my transaction, we did a slow bar crawl to the place where we were going to meet one of her co-workers for more drinks. Things got a little fuzzy after that. I do remember being asked to leave the NYC mounted police stables.

Once again, yesterday turned into a similar fiasco. We went to a party near Jersey City and once again, over imbibed a bit. As we were leaving the party, we poured our remaining beers into solo cups and proceeded towards the train station to head back to Manhattan. While walking down the street of a pretty suburban neighborhood a cop pulled up and we immediately poured out beers out. That didn't help. The cop wrote us tickets anyway and, to add insult to injury, checked the box requiring us to appear in court. So, on the 20th, we have to go back to New Jersey to pay the piper. Dang.

With that behind us, we proceeded to the train station, on time, mind you, and successfully made it back to Penn Station in Manhattan. I don't remember exactly what we were bickering about, but somehow I upset the little woman and she was walking quickly up the stairs as I called out her name. Evidently a nearby cop thought things were worse than they were, and detained me for a bit until I convinced him that I was, indeed, her boyfriend. He let me go and I managed to catch up to the woman of my dreams before she got too far, which is a good thing, considering the fact that I would have been completely lost without her marvelous sense of direction. I love that woman.

Anyway, I've decided that the NYC police presence is enough to leave me inclined to moderate. Or abstain...