Sometimes, even though less and less, I feel the urge to reset. To get wasted; a sort of like in the old days, just a tiny bit more sophisticated. Maybe the way the others would not notice. Or if they would, they could not be certain.
A top floor lounge, the spot to be. Great views of the city, a decent lighting and deep-deep sofas. An open bar with an unlimited stream of drinks coming my way.
— What're you having?
— Champagne. And I'll run the cocktails menu then.
Laugh. There's only about eight cocktails on the list and I'm running the second round soon. I'm being nice. I can walk. I'm still articulate.
Leaving after hours, smashed yet civilized. Perhaps I'm growing up.
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