I made a trans-Atlantic, trans-Mediterranian drunk dial.The evening didn't start out so sloppy. Tate and Shawna had me over for a DELICIOUS dinner party with some of their friends (all of whom are pretty rad) and we laughed, ate and drank.
I consumed an unnatural quantity of Smirnoff Ice and cobbler, both of which I am nuts about and slightly embarrassed that I have such a strong affection for.
I digress.
The party was great, dinner was, as expected, amazing and slowly around midnight, the guests started to leave.
Not me.
I stayed on and Tate and I ventured out onto the "deck" and philosophized about life, apartments and COBBLER (told you I am obsessed). There was a lot of laughing and as I started inside to get more of that delectable treat (pictured above), I looked at the clock. It was 2am.
Perfect time to call overseas, it's what 9:30 am in Israel?
Yeah, so that's how it happened. Tate and I called Roy about 4 times before he called us back, lovingly entertained our slurring and bouts of hysterical laughter.
Sure, it seemed like a good idea at the time. Even a great one.
He's a trooper, that Roy.
...if i could only remember what we talked about.
2 comments:
You are welcome to our happy home any time, my dear, cobbler or no cobbler. You brought the party to Rad Factor 11.
awwww, shucks. thanks.
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