Adult Decisions vs. Free Whiskey

I've been thinking about my ability to make adult decisions - plan my food for the week, exercise, vacuum my house and the like, all things that I've gotten rather good at - and I find it curious that I'm still powerless against certain opportunities to act like an asshole. On Friday, I left work with a casual, "I'm going to try to not get too drunk tonight - see you guys later." And I didn't (get too drunk).

I had happy hour at Avery with a few folks and went home after two beers to make stir fry and hang out with my dog. I also elected to avoid the 3 night Disco Biscuits run. Twofer.

Saturday was cloudy and grim and my mood was equally unappealing. I'd already committed to staying in for the evening to avoid forcing my recent 'he's just not that into you' funk on my friends. But there was another kind of funk brewing at the Mtn Sun anniversary party, just a few hours away, just a few tickets left... and a free beer if you bought your ticket at the pub. Economical. Done.

"Can I come back and grab my beer before the show?" I asked. "If I start drinking now this night will not go well." See? Adult decision. And I did - come back and get my beer. And as I stood in the Boulder Theater a few hours later talking to a friend, I commented on how every time I come to a party at the BT, shit goes off the rails at some point. We're just partying along, and then I look up and it's likethat scene in Mean Girls when everyone at the mall starts acting like they're on Animal Planet except in this case maybe they all ate acid? and I'm suddenly all what the fuck is going on in here???

"If only you could see it coming, that moment when you smoke that joint or whatever that sends the whole night awry."

"Hey look, Andy's bartending. Free drinks all night."

"That was it." I sighed in resignation to our fate. "Just now."

"Maybe. Let's find out."

While it wasn't the exact moment (10:17pm), the free whiskey certainly added to the effect. By midnight I was walking up 9th street to my house, 4$ grilled cheese (<-- adult decision) in hand, oblivious to the rain and well on my way to a few microwaved quesadillas and less than well thought out facebook messages (<-- not).

I'm closing in on you, singular poor decision that ruins my night. Closing. In.