Friday night sucked.
But Saturday night?
I was just sick of hiding at home, worry I'd run into certain people when I go out. I wanted to dance and make out with a boy. That's it. Just some vodka, smooching, and booty-shaking. Simple enough, right?
I went to a new bar in town. Multiple sips of my beloved vodka followed. The DJ blasted cheesy pop music; I danced my heart out.
Then, I saw a cute guy. I smiled. Next thing I knew, we were making out on the dance floor. He was an incredibly good-looking dude who's name I couldn't keep straight. I called him Harry Potter because of his glasses. When he asked if I was ready to leave with him, I said "Just give me one minute." Then I danced out the side door and left him clueless at the bar.
It was so easy.