Trying to Be Fun

This weekend a friend and I went to Chinatown for dinner, where the two of us ordered five enormous dishes (duck, beef, and crab for the proteins, with green beans and baby bok choy alongside) and I had the misfortune of ordering what turned out to be a child’s drink.  It was labeled in the menu as “Japanese Soda.”  When I ordered it, the waiter informed me that “that’s for a baby,” and then enjoyed bringing it to me, snapping a rubber nipple-type thing on top, and letting me drink it:

It was fine.  It tasted like orange soda.  It was full of high-fructose corn syrup.  I was only briefly humiliated.

Anyway, back to the story.  We planned to watch a movie after our adventurous dinner, and to make that happen we had to make sure we were fully stocked with wine and ice cream, and then by the time we did that, and watched our movie, I was nearly asleep.  At this point it was suggested to me that I should stay the night.

This had me a little bit panicked at first, as the following thoughts went through my head:

HOW WILL I BRUSH MY TEETH?

I DON’T HAVE ANY SPARE CLOTHES!

I DON’T HAVE MY SPECIAL ALLERGEN-FORBIDDING PILLOWCASE!

I DON’T HAVE MY MOUTHGUARD AND I WILL BE GRINDING MY TEETH ALL NIGHT!

Then I decided, screw all that, I’m not going to die.

So I slept on my friend’s plush, wonderful couch.  The next morning I splashed some water on my face and we went out for pancakes.  I wore all the same clothes I’d had on the day before.  And we had a grand time.

Sometimes I’m anal, and it takes some work to get me out of my funk.  But it’s worth it.  I’m fun.  I promise.  I ORDERED A CHILD’S DRINK!