This morning I woke up early and as gingerly as I possibly could. I remembered the nauseas, sickly state I had been in when I went to sleep the night before and was afraid to move too quickly. I didn’t want to disrupt the contents of my stomach or jostle any dehydrated parts of my brain.
As I slowly moved my toes from beneath the comforter, parts of last night made their way to the surface. I remembered walking up to the half-empty bar towards the end of the night and ordering Pearl and myself two Fair-Haired Maidens.
“What’s in that?” the bartender asked quizzically.
“Oops. I mean two Red-Headed Sluts,” I corrected myself.
“Ohh ok, you got it,” and with a wink, he turned to concoct them.