Since we're there every Thursday night, we've developed quite a friendship with the staff at Rooster's. So much so that Jason, a waiter and newly appointed assistant brewmaster, invited us to his house last night for a barbecue.
Nearly all of the Rooster's crew was there, though Theresa was sorely missed. Jason had driven up to Wyoming to get a keg of Fat Tire, which I'd never had before, but was very tasty. Too tasty, in fact.
It was a good thing John drove, because when I start drinking and there are lots of cool people around and the social juices are flowing, I lose track of how much I've had. Last night, how much I had was way too much.
It's so fun talking to people who grew up so different than I did. I had some great conversations last night. I also did the drink-and-dial. Twice. Jay texted me today to tell me how funny the message I left on his voicemail was.
Every time I spend the night drinking, I always get to a point where I know I've had enough and I can ride out my buzz and have a great night. Last night, I totally cruised past that point without looking back. I don't know what time we left, but it was pretty late, and I felt pretty rough this morning. The beer gods had their revenge when I had to test very loud fire alarms in a very large and very echo-y building from 7 to 10 AM.
1 comment:
Fat Tire from the tap is some of the best.
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