Ahhhhh, but I've learned my lesson. There are cameras everywhere. There are people and conversations that you NEED to remember in the morning. At my age, anything that I NEED to remember at all is in danger.
Speaking of memories, for more years than I can remember, we have all booked a room at a local hotel with awesome views of the San Francisco Bay. We've worn costumes when most of the guests did not. We pre-party--this year with a nice bottle of Dom, AND, we post party.
There are infamous years. Wild limo rides, people stripping on stage, strangely acquired items that need to be returned on Monday, and stories, comments and conversations that you can never erase from the mind.
This year, we held it together pretty well. No crazy stuff, the wives left the husbands behind and took off for the comfort of a warm, cozy bed. We took a 3 AM cab back to our hotel, I climbed out of the car, and the hem of my skirt was wet! My friend said, "I thought I smelled something in that cab."
I touched the hem of my skirt, sniffed my hand, and almost passed out from the puke smell. There is nothing like human bile to make a person's own stomach turn. Luckily, it was an outer scarf of a skirt. I took it, and my long shawl off right away, right there in the hotel lobby.
I headed to the rest room to wash my nasty hands. Well, what do you think I found there? Two out of the three sinks were a red vomit wasteland. It looked like a crime scene. Holy Toledo. I tried to use the most sanitary looking sink, but it was out of soap. I had to totter over the chunks of vomit, but was thinking the soap was worth it.
I told the front desk that their restrooms needed immediate attention. The guy said, "Well, it is a Friday night, and the bar just closed." Oh, that explains it. I'm so old and out of it.
We all headed to our separate rooms. Being 3:30ish, I dropped my soiled shawl and skirt in the hallway, stepped in the room and removed my under skirt and dropped it in the hall as well with my shoes. My plan was to get the plastic laundry bag and stuff those puppies in.
First, I needed a shower. I couldn't imagine the nice, pukey germs I had been in close quarters with, so I took a shower. Feeling much better, I put my comfy jammies on and went back to the door to get my nasty off casts.
Hmmmmmm. Not that I want them back, but isn't that the strangest thing?