go here to read part 1.
next up: escorting bar patron out of the bar.
us girls are sitting at the bar chatting about hair, nails, boys, etc. doi. and we see Phyllis’ younger bro talking to this stranger. assuming he is making friends.
then we see her husband [the detective] talking to him. and his FBI friend.
either they are making friends easily or this guy just fucked up.
yeah. it was the latter.
homeboy was trying to pick-pocket our coats. MY COAT. her brother watched him reach his hand in MY leather jacket.
so tell your mother. tell ya sister. tell ya grandmother. keep your purses safe ladies. sketch people out there.
so he gets escorted out. and we go back to drinking. talking about giving phyllis’ brother a badge for his great detective skills. obvi.
and to celebrate our night of misfortunes and good friends. shot.
these guys next to us had just ordered shot that came with two shot glasses. one filled with jameson. [normal] the other: some juice from a plastic cup with things floating in it. [not normal]
what is your guess??
pickle juice?? yeah, that wasn’t mine either. but that is what it was.
they raved about it. so we obviously had to try it.
i was expecting something magical. something that would just blow my mind. because why else would you put those two together??
well you know what?
it tasted like jameson. then chased with pickle juice. gross.
don’t do it.
the night ended with us writing each others eulogy’s as if we were talking at each other’s funeral. which sounds extremely morbid but it was actually really cool. it was interesting to hear what others would want to say at your funeral.
have you done that before with your friends? you should.
and that was just friday kiddos.