Birthday Boy

My buddies want to take me out for my 30th birthday. I normally don’t go out, I’m much more of a homebody than other people in my social circle. They say they’ll buy me drinks all night, and have been begging to take me out for the past couple weeks. ”C’mon man, it’s your 30th birthday! You never go out with us. Let’s get fucked up!” they said. I couldn’t say no, although my plan was to let them all get shitfaced and slip out early.

We live in a small college city, so the bars are usually filled with a younger crowd. Maybe I’ll get lucky tonight and go home with a pretty college girl. That would certainly top my birthday off in a delightful way. I’m not the most suave guy, but I’m no Quasimodo. We get to the first bar of the evening around 9. The scene is good. Not too crowded, but plenty of people enjoying their night. We all take shots to start off, then another, and another. My buddy’s choice of tequila will sure make for an interesting night. The bar a few blocks down has a good birthday wing deal, so we stumble out of the first bar and make our way down the street.