Mercy, Mercy Me

Today marks the last day of one of our managers. She is everyone's favorite person in the entire company (that's over 2000 people worldwide) and since she was FORCED to leave, we wanted to show her how much were appreciated her. So, we took her out for happy hour at this fun place, Mercy.

It was more like a wake. If you never been to a wake, that means it was a lot of drinking, crying, and story-telling. Please tell me, that's just not the Catholic wakes...please....
What made it harder for me was the last time I ate was at 12:30 lunch. That was the same for everyone.

You know what's better than a good ole happy hour? Happy hour with the co-workers. Their shells crack at that 3rd glass of wine and personalities just come flying out from everywhere. The bitches are now my new best friends. The uptight girl who never speaks is a freak in the bedroom. The pregnant one tipsy on her one glass. Whoo hoo, you go girl---don't let that bump keep you down. The manager who was leaving...oh holiness, she let her lips loose and I found out a whole lot more about our company. That's how it happens when you leave, you let it all out. She did.

Yes, I've seen a couple of these girls drunk before. Like I said, a couple: just the pregnant one and my friend/confidant: HK. But here is the thing about HK, she was drunk since lunch. Happy Hour was the ice berg that sunk her. (I hope she was able to get on the plane) As the drinks were poured and tears cried, we had a blast. My stomach told me it was time to quit and I said my good byes. It was 9:20, the manager asked why I was leaving so soon. I told her that I had to meet the boyfriend because he leaves for a week tomorrow.
"Oh...you could just tell us that you are going to fuck his brains out"

She said that!! Can you believe it, I mean this is the woman that comes in each day prim and proper and leaves at three each day to pick her kids up from private school. This is the woman that ultimately hired me. This woman is about 50 years old.

I laughed and left. If this was boot camp time, I would have stopped and went home. Not me, I needed a burger and I wanted it from Jake's.
I got on the phone with AP (I'm so sorry AP) and drove.

I didn't think I was that drunk...but when you find yourself sharing with the bartender that your boyfriend did not need to be doing certain things, you know you are drunk.
When you call another friend and tell her you are breaking up with boyfriend because you are a super soap opera star and deserve better, you know you are drunk. (I'm so sorry, SK)
When your downstairs neighbor--who can hear EVERYTHING calls and you tell her you are having break-up sex and "Can you hear me, now?" comes out of your mouth 10,000 times, you are drunk.
When you start yelling: GO, SPURS, GO!
Oh, fuck I was really that drunk because I would never yell that.
Never.


**Turns out, the rest of the happy hour group stayed until midnight. This morning as we are reminiscing, came to find out, no one paid the bill! You know, we were all drunk.