Well, it’s not too much over an entire evening, but it certainly is within 1-1/2 hours at a Happy Hour on a Friday evening!!
But I did it anyway and wobbled just a bit when I went to unlock my bike.
But the real wobble came after I started home. It was dark but the residential streets were well lit and I was only a mile from my comfortable bed.
So I walked the bike and everything was fine. When I got to within 3 blocks of my apartment, somehow, I went down. Softly. No blood, no cracking of bones. Even Effie Mae, my bike, went over softly, without any noise. So there I was, in the middle of the left lane, flat on my back, staring at the sky. But I was only walking. How can this happen?
I rolled over and my head was spinning and my tummy was rolling. Plop. Reverse to lying down again and staring at the stars.
All I could think of was what my red blouse cost and now it was flat against the tarmac. And my slacks weren’t cheap, either. And here I was, on a suburban street, with my knees up in the air like in a gynie’s office, trying to make the world stop spinning.
Possibly call the Police for help? I dug in my backpack for the phone. NO. They might put me in the drunktank or something.
I continued to watch the stars. And an occasional plane. Flat on my back. On a public street. Beside my bike. A drunk senior citizen. Shameful.
A young nymph of about 16 came along, reached out her teeny weeny hand and said, “Do you need help?” I looked at the size of her and considered the size of me, and said, “No, I’m just resting.” She looked very surprised and backed away.
And I did rest, for a very long time. The amazing thing is not one single car came by. Finally, I took off my shoes, lobbed them over the bike to near the basket (it was a great two shots) and rolled over on all fours. Gradually, slowly, very slowly I walked my arms to my spread bare feet, and was able finally to stand up, Viola!! Then Effie Mae. I walked, slowly, oh so slowly. My building came into sight and I managed to get my key out, get me and Effie Mae through the door. Now the unit door.
I’m home!! I flopped on the bed and forgot about my dirty feet and closed my eyes. Aaahhhh.
No more 3 glasses of wine at Happy Hour.