At approximately 8:00pm, I initiated communications with Black Lantern. Initially, we had planned on gathering for a beer at Dexter’s, but, alas, this was not meant to be due to rambunctious trivia crowds.
Not surprisingly, we wound up at the Argus, as is often the case. We proceeded to commence beveraging and bullshitting for several hours. I was enjoying PBRs in an attempt at keeping somewhat sober; BL’s beverage of choice was gin and tonic. He later shifted to beer as well.
“Are you going to stay for another one?” I asked at one point, finishing my third or fourth beer.
“I’ll stay if you stay.”
“Good talk,” I assented, turning to the barkeep. “Please pour me another, my good man.”
The hours ticked past, matters were discussed, and our respective beverages were heartily quaffed.
At around midnight, I looked at my watch, realized that it was getting late, and said, “It’s after midnight; I should think about heading home.”
“Nonsense. I have a better idea: let’s go have one at Maduro.”
“Good talk. We’re really nailing it tonight.”
In an effort to keep to lower-ABV beer, I decided on Fuller’s London Pride. Black Lantern said fuck it all and went with New Holland’s Envious. According to my meticulous notes, here’s what we thought:
We opted to stay for a second, very unnecessary, round. I don’t remember what either of us decided to drink, but evidently, they were not big hits:
Upon finishing our second round at Maduro, Black Lantern declared, “I do believe the time has come for me to call a cab so that I may go home and fall down.”
And thusly, we shook hands like gentlemen, and parted ways for the evening.