I stopped in at the local grocery store last Saturday night to find multiple miniature herds of co-eds purchasing their alcoholic beverages for the evening.
As I roamed the ailes seeing one fresh face after the next purchasing their portions of liquid courage, a singular comment ran through my mind: Amateurs!
One lone backwards-cap soul had 4 sixers of various micros in his wee basket. I didn't know whether to congratulate him for rising above the stereotypes concerning fratboys and their beer, or to admonish him for abandoning his roots.
Seriously, who waits/needs to buy their hooch that close to closing time? People who do not plan out their drunk, that's who.
"But wait, what if they drank everything they had during the day and needed to get more?!!1"
Fuck off, they should have anticipated such a conumdrum when they started and acted accordingly. Being a lush is no excuse for being a poor planner.
"Wait, what were you doing in the store during closing time then?"
I was buying pasta asshole, and I had a gallon and a half of whisky waiting for me at home, like a veteran, thankyouverymuch. I like pasta with my whisky, sue me.
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