I had drunk a lot of gin. Too much, in fact. I grabbed my bandana tied to a stick and got up stiffly, trying my best to look chic and OK about being the only Caucasian. Suddenly, I got a head rush like no other, and prayed that I would at least make it to the front door. Things were going great until I reached the street. I was wearing new wedge shoes, which I had already nearly broken my ankle in a few times at home, yet I was somehow sure that once out in the real world this never would happen. Maybe it was the gin, or maybe it was the song running through my head ("Hello my baby, hello my dolly ... "), but I bit it. Hard. Folks looked at me like I was a big ol' fool. I was all right, though. I got back up, wiped myself off, and went to sleep it off in my car like any sophisticated woman would. One thing's for sure, the cards never lie. — Katy St. Clair
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