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The morning after

(Make sure you’ve read this entry first.)

The scene: Thursday morning. A phone call.

H.: (sounding very rough) Yo…Joe?

Me: Hey, H. What’s up? You sound like you had a pretty good time last night.

H.: Too good…you know what I mean?

Me: Yeah.

H.: Did I say something…weird…last night?

Me: Something about a limo, perhaps?

H.: Heh heh heh…limo…I must’a been really drunk. Sorry ’bout that, Joe.

Easy come, easy go.

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