Last night I had to go downtown for my good friend Oats' birthday party. The thing about downtown versus the North Side is that the people are prettier overall, dressed up nicer and probably more successful, but once everyone is drunk, they're just like drunks anywhere else - Albuquerque, Hamburg, Tatooine, it doesn't matter. Folks were still falling into me, spilling stuff, bumping into lamps, and I'm always cool with that because I've likely been "that guy" twice as many times as them.
Without a doubt, the drunkest human in there was someone I met named Kate. She came up to me and ripped my pearl snap shirt open, then she and a friend howled like "Girls Gone Wild," and then she walked away. Later, we had a more civilized encounter, and she was telling me how she was pretty sure her friend liked me. I said, "But Kate, weren't you the one trying to strip me naked a minute ago?" She also had a strange habit of taking pictures of people she doesn't know, which is probably fun at the time but confusing the next day when she scans through her handy work.
It turns out Kate, like your humble narrator, is in a long-distance relationship, with her fella living in Boston. She said she's pretty sure that we could be friends, but I don't think that will work out because we didn't exchange information. Plus I need another drinking buddy like I need to squat naked on an upright football.