It was a long, rough weekend and I have the scars to prove it. It all started last Friday with a four-beer lunch at The Bungalow in SoHo, followed by a trip to the Courtney Campbell Causeway where I joined coworkers (and a cheap ass) for too many mojitos (and a $260 tab!) at Oyster Catchers. Next came too many beers at Whiskey's Joe's. Finally, wine was consumed back at my apartment because, y'know, what's a good night of imbibing if you don't hit at least three of the major liquid food groups?
Those wounds I refer to in the first sentence? They're on my forehead. Scraped my big head against the bottom of a pool while trying to do a handstand. Twice. Yeah, I took a dip late Saturday after Creative Loafing's terrifically hedonistic Beer Fest, held in downtown St. Pete at Jannus Landing.That's CL publisher Sharry Smith standing next to me. She didn't join us for the swim. Thank gawd. There are some things your boss just really shouldn't witness — no matter how cool she is about the off-the-clock shenanigans of her "alternative newspaper" employees.
