Mixing drink and work never hurt anyone. The dudes on Mad Men do it all the time. You only saw the pilot, but it seemed like things were going okay for them. Hell, Hemingway drank and he won the Nobel Prize. In fact, you can't think of a single reason not to get a drink. Who's the boss here? That's right. You.
You meet your friends and order a drink. They're all so happy to be finished for the night, and for a second you're jealous. But then you realize that they'll never know true freedom. That they'll never feel the excitement of having a weekend whenever they want it.
A server comes up and they all order another round.
"Come on," they say. "Just one more."
You finish the last sip of your drink and stand up. You turn to leave, but your eyes catch on the most attractive person in the bar. And, surprisingly, they're looking at you. They must recognize the boss-like confidence you've had since cancelling your insurance.
Evil Cooper and Chechen President Ramzan Kadyrov have both been on a rampage, but who did what?
"Your left eye," the optometrist casually explained while blasting my face with a blue laser at point blank range, "is farsighted and shaped like an eyeball. The other eye is nearsighted and shaped like a football. Not even a good football."
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