After lunch she told me to came back with my drinking shoes on

I can usually tell by the second sip what kind of night it could be. I felt it was going to be a quick night.

I can also usually tell how much I can handle on a drink by drink basis; shots are the hardest, you can't slow drink a shot.

"I can't do it right now but give me two minutes…" is not an uncommon thing for me to say when a shot is placed in front of me.

Peter was standing to my right when I was on my second margarita after a cranberry and Stoli razz and Jen was asking me "What now?" I told her something with juice in it and I believe I was called a pussy. She started mixing things and had the other bartenders taste it before she passed a little plastic cup my way.

"That's too sweet."

"You said something with juice; juice is sweet."

"Not grapefruit juice. That tastes like banana candy."

"Maybe I did use too much banana..."

The next thing she sat in front of me was a mystery. It was yellowish and in a martini glass, it tasted slightly like pineapple. I usually always try to keep an eye out when they're mixing my drinks so I'll get a clue on how much extra alcohol is going into the thing. Somehow, I dropped my guard.

"That's about 120 proof," Peter said. I like Peter. I think he's the most mannered man I could name and I think he usually knows what he is talking about but the bar doesn't have anything over 90 proof so there was no way he was accurate on this but I didn't argue.

"Do it as a shot," Jen said.

"Could I get a Diet Coke chaser?" I asked.

"Don't do that as a shot," Peter countered.

"That's a big man's drink," Chad said.

"Don't do it," Peter said.

"Drink it," Jen said.

"How are you getting home?" Chad asked.

I answered him by showing my public transportation pass.

"That's too much alcohol, don't do it," Peter persisted.

"Jen, is this worse than anything I've done as a shot before?"

"No. You've done by far worse."

I appreciated that Peter was trying to look out for me but one of the things I love to do is to prove people wrong about me, so I lifted the glass, laughed a bit because I knew I was about to do something stupid and then put the glass back down. "Don't do it," Peter said again, so I lifted the glass and gulped the first half, when I heard "That's too much alcohol," which made me laugh but I got the other half down as well.

Sometimes, I guess wrong about how much I can drink but with the first sip of soda, I knew I would be okay. I drank about half a glass of soda when Emily set a raspberry margarita in front of me.

"Don't give him that," Peter said

Emily looked at me and I just shrugged and then she asked "Who the fuck are you?" to Peter.

"She's evil, don't trust that one," Peter said.

"What he's going to do is slow drink that while all the ice melts, just like he always does"

I just smiled because Emily was correct. I'm very good at pacing myself as long as no one is backing me up by buying me drinks. She did overexaggerate about letting all the ice melt, though.

I've been going to that bar for quite some time. I know who I can trust and who I cannot. I was starting to tire of Peter being my guardian angel, so I enjoyed my drink as quick as I could while he kept asking me how I was doing.

I asked for my bill and Emily brought over something that total $14.50. I peeled off a couple of bills.

"What are you doing?" Peter asked as I was hiding the money in my lap. I just looked at him with a mind-your-own-business look.

"They are going to think you are a chump."

"Listen," I said as I showed him the bill.

"Wow, they must like you."

"You have to consider what I just drank, I got those three guys back there a round of beer, I had some beer, I had two margaritas, that mystery martini and then this margarita…" (I had forgotten the Stoli Razz and Canberry and I didn't mention that all my drink other than the martini were served in pint glasses)

"Okay, I don't know how much you have in your hand but I would leave $30."

I was pretty certain that he just lied about him not knowing but I didn't call him it, I just fanned the folded bills to show that I only had thirty in my hand. I would have left more but the bartenders get on my case when I do, so I try to keep things at around double what they charge me, and Jen already got a large tip from my friends and me at lunch, so I felt thirty was okay even though the bill should have been over sixty bucks.

I think Peter needs to worry less about me and more about his own business.

And yes four double size cocktails, a martini and three beers are a light night for me on a Friday.