Well, there goes the night.
So- I’m sick. As those of you closest to me probably know, I’ve been fighting a fucking cold/respiratory infection for the last week. Well, being that I’m getting to the end of it, I’ve got a fever and my chest hurts from coughing and my throat and all that other shit.
Well the original plans on Saturdays is that we have our group meetings at around 8 PM. Okay, normal shit. But last week, a few of the people in our group expressed they wanted to go to the club- not my scene, at all. I don’t dance, I don’t really drink, and I don’t particularly enjoy bump-n-grind, Lil Wayne garbage “music”. I wasn’t really given a choice in the matter though. Its either I go, or I sit at home by myself while my girlfriend and the rest of the group goes. So I agreed to go, hoping I’d be feeling better.
Well, being that it is now a week later, I don’t feel any better. In fact, I feel about the same, if not worse (due to my fever). But guess what? When I asked how late they planned on staying out, they said ‘Oh until about 2 or so.’ Like I want to go sit at a fucking bar for nearly FOUR GODDAMN HOURS. And to top it off, They want to go eat afterward. So I get to pay a cover charge, pay for drinks, and then pay for food later on a night where I feel like near-death, in a setting that I do not, at all, enjoy.
How is this fair to me?
I understand that I’m not the greatest person in the world, but I figured that maybe there’d be a bit of compassion for me since, you know, I don’t fucking feel good.
Whatever.
