So I got raging drunk last night after a month of extreme stress, very little food, way too many hours worked, etc. etc. etc.
I ended up blacking out most of the night. I remember leaving work (already quite drunk) with 3 girls to go to the bar next door and do some shots.
I vaguely remember vomiting, only because it was an awful enough experience to stick in my mind in spite of being blacked out. For those of you who aren't aware of it, accepting bets involving the eating of crushed red pepper flakes is probably not a good idea during a night of binge drinking.
I woke up smooshed into a tiny loveseat in my friend's living room. A friend that (to my knowledge), I was not hanging out with last night. Once I figured out where I was, my next move was to check my pockets to make sure all of my tip money from last night was still there. I had left work with about $250 in cash in my pocket. It was a good few hours behind the bar.
I still had money, and enough of it was gone that I didn't bother worrying that I had walked out on my bar tab. So far,so good.
Then I found a piece of folded paper in my pocket, with a note on it that (though I don't remember hanging out with him last night) could only have come from a local guy who's been an occasional drinking and/or poker buddy since he "retired" from "The Company" and moved up here a little over a decade ago. It just said "(name of charitable organization redacted)", "Haiti", and "patois bonus" on it.
So I'm buying a ticket out of here tomorrow. Fuck that shit.