Last night was Thirsty Thursdays, a long standing tradition that dates back to the early 1700s when the first Continental Congress would meet at a pub outside of Philadelphia to get their pre-TGIF drink on. Gone are the days of Five O'clock Somewhere Fridays... the new start to the weekend is indeed Thursday night. Patience just simply isn't an American virtue.
Which led me to last nights drink. $3 margaritas at Aspen Creek. Yes, folks you heard that right. A bar modeled after a lodge in what might be Colorado's hoity-toitiest of spots was mixing up the devil's brew left and right for precisely 300 pennies. And so I drank and prayed in a fashion that reminded me of my days in college, running to Macado's five minutes before the end of happy hour and ordering three drinks at the discounted price of one (for fifteen glorious minutes last night, my $3 margs were actually $2... thank you Happy Hour). I can just imagine Benji Franklin and Sammy A. doing the same in the days of yore... and then waking up on Friday morning and phoning it in through the day... until five o'clock that is.
Drink. Pray. Love.
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