Have you ever had a night out that only got worse as the hours dragged on?
Yeah. That was me on Thursday.

First, it was my then-friend's twenty-fifth birthday and we were doing it up like we were twenty-one. Then I found out the one gift she wanted for herself? Was the man I'd been seeing.

But there's more.

Apparently, he'd been hoein' around with more than one of my friends because I "wouldn't put out." Yeah, well, he's selfish in bed, if ya know what I mean.

With my roommate—who was not a boyfriend-stealer—in tow, we left the bar crawl and headed home...only to stop at O'Gallaghers for a cool-down drink and to watch the night's hockey game.

That's where I met him.

As I tried to cure my bad mood, one drink led to two, turned to three. For a lightweight like myself, that was a recipe for disaster. Then when the bartender offered to walk me home...

Let's just say waking up in my bed, in my clothes, with a note by my bedside? Wasn't on my BINGO card. With the sweatshirt he let me borrow mocking me from the corner of my room, I realized at some point I was going to have to face the man again.

Guess I'll be going back to O'Gallaghers.