.....and On Most Birthdays Following It!But 21 was the greatest. I had ben living in Savannah for a littlel ess than a year. there was a bar I already drank regularly at, because i "knew the band" and used to score coke for the door guy. In any case, I sent the few h ours before the clock struck twelve working-- waiting tables at the Mellow Mushroom. My best friend was workinng there, also, ans told all my customers it was my birthday, so I made alot of tis that night. Thanks, Meg! Anyhow, we got out of work right around midnight, and hurried to our regualr bar, where all of our friends were waiting. The door guy was missing, so we just wandered in, struggled out way to seats at the bar and ordered a drink. For this first time since I had been going to this bar, I was asked for an ID. By the owner. I handed it over woth a big smile on my face. "Happy Birthday" he said, and pured me my first legal shot of that nectar of the gods, Jaermeister.
Things get a little blurry now. There are beers, drinks, shots, laughing, dancing. A great birthday. An incident that stands out: These two old guys were flirting with me; I was boasting my shot taking skills, and one of them challenged me. He said there was no way I could take six back-to-back shots of jager. HA! Bring it, you old ****!! Te bartender pours the shots and everyone looks on as I, like te ro I am, slam all six shots and ask for another. My prize? the old mans tongue in my mouth. Oh, and a couple valium.
Anyhow, thats pretty much all I remember until I woke up the next morning on a friends floor with a peacock feather sticking out of my hair and a random cat attacking it.
Damn I miss Savannah. I should tell you about this one time.....