Broom Closet

Jeff and I met friends out to not only catch up, but to help celebrate a birthday. We went to a local burrito bar called Bombers. Here, those celebrating their birthday are gifted with a super-sized margarita.

The margarita well exceded the size of Beth's head. It was something her and her fiance should not have finished on their own, hence the four straws in it. But, they did. More power to them.

So, in the spirit of Beth's birthday, her margarita, and Jeff's final day here in New York, I decided to test my alcohol consumption skills. Mind you, all tolerance was lost around the age of 22. My limit has fallen to, not a two beer queer but, a one beer queer. No lie. One and a half at most. Tonight, to honor the multiple occasions, I decided to push my limits to two. Risky business!

I was feeling a little goofy but perfectly in control. Then, I had to use the bathroom. As I stood up and walked, I could feel it. I thanked my lucky stars that I made it to the bathroom without falling, tripping, or stumbling. Now, as I get ready for bed, I am even more thankful that I am here, home, and not lost in a broom closet somewhere. 

The Bombers Broom Closet

Isn't it more apparent each day that Jeff is a lucky guy?