I need to get wasted. That’s the only thing that’s on my mind right now.
Already on my fourth shot of the vodka cocktail, I already can feel my surroundings spinning around. My eyes were already blurry and my lids have gotten heavy.
I pursed my lips as I ordered a new drink. The look on the bartender’s face lets me know that he’s not sure if serving me a drink is still the right decision because I am already feeling tipsy. So, this is how it feels?
“Just give it to her,” the man beside me said. “I’ll watch over her tonight,” he added.
I turned to him and squinted my eyes. He’s drinking his own shot while looking at me with arched brows. I pursed my lips and shrugged. To be honest, I don’t care anymore. As long as this bartender gives me another shot because being tipsy doesn’t cut it.
