hang over

Yesterday, Mr. Guillén decided to join Mr. James and friends for drinks after a quite sterssful week; turned out to be a great night as far as I can remember... martini glasses, blue lights, white leather chairs, steel, europeans, the marina, yatches, breeze... well deserved; but the huasteco within me, the Banda within the others and the reggae within Mr. James didn't go to sleep that night, after all that grey goose running through our bloodstream... so we decided to go to the trendy Passions... packed!... next!... we ended up at Red, which is still trendy but for the local crowd, and I did not have grey goose there, although I asked for it and pay for it, liquor was pretty bad, bad enough to get me in the dancing mood, which made me thirsty and so I drank more... what the hell!...ooops! wrong! As far as I can go back: I am dancing, everyone else is dancing, lights are loud, music is louder, cars passing by, Karina's purse is hanging from my shoulder while I dance (oh yes!), Mr. James knows, he is supposed to whisper to my ear "stop that this is not a gay bar" but he smiles, looks at his glass and drinks more... then I am in the car, later I am waiting for the gate to be unlocked... I am running upstairs because I need to use the bathroom... "wake up, it's 8:20, go shower" F#ck!