I'm Not Blaming You

I'm just saying that these things happen, and it's ok. I know. You went to Cole's last week with the best intentions. You were going to be good. You were going to have one PBR (maybe two), do your thing if you're a comic, and go to bed early.

And then they started buying you drinks. And Travis Bartender is so dashing with that baritone voice of his - "want another?"

"Sure," you said. I've got time.

And then you started in on the Martinis - Vodka Martinis. You knew it was wrong, but everybody was laughing and having such a good time and s/he kept looking your way and smiling and you started to talk with this woman-or-man (because FtH doesn't assume), and you wanted to celebrate the surprise ruling on the Prop 8 thing, even though it doesn't apply to you (because you'll probably never get married at all), and then it all just went fuzzy.

The next thing you remember was the walk of shame through the glaring light of a 90 degree Chicago day, with everybody you saw on the street just staring and judging you - you presumed.

The only advice Your Old Pal Foz has is maybe you don't want to put that on Facebook. Grandma doesn't need to know that. We'll keep it between us.

But now the question before you: do you try it again? Do you risk another disgrace because you know can't control yourself when Cameron Esposito and the comics at Cole's start rattling the rafters? You know you can't make good judgments once Foz the Hook gets your blood up. Do you risk another personal disaster? Twice in two weeks?

OF COURSE YOU DO!!!! It's Wednesday, and that means tonight you will be at Cole's with the contents of your change jar in your pocket laughing your scalp off with the best comics in town! Will Mo Welch be there again? James Fritz? Ryan Walker? Matt Slater? We hope and think so. What we know for sure is that Your Private Confidants, FtH, will be there to wind you up, enable you to make bad decisions, and not judge you about it.

That's Cole's, tonight at 8:45 or 9:00 depending on the list. Be there by 8:30. It goes all night, or until you wake up in a strange apartment. We don't judge.