I learned two lessons tonight. The first is to avoid drinking four Red Bulls in an hour. Even a respectable tolerance to caffeine from chugging pots of superstrong java couldn't prepare me for the shocked loopiness that resulted. In the middle of the club, my better judgement went sproing...it was like being drunk without the slurring and staggering.

I also learned not to ask too many questions of my boyfriend. At one point during the caffeine-high, a skanky twink in clothes too tight for his anorexic frame swished up and gave Wayne a hug, speaking in the ear farthest from me and ignoring my presence entirely. No mean feat, considering I was in Wayne's lap at the time. Under normal circumstances, that would be my cue to take sudden interest in the dance floor or teasing drunk people, leaving them to chat and grilling Wayne later. In my ultraperky state, I whirled around and locked eyes with the twink. "Hello. Who are you?" He blinked, surprised, and told me his name which I did not honestly intend to remember and do not. I continued, "I see. How nice to meet you. How exactly do you know one another?" Yes, it was forward and rude of me, but Karma was on her toes and punished me swiftly as he replied, "We slept together...how do YOU know him?" I expected a lame answer, fabricated and insincere, and his blunt reply left me speechless for several moments, the only words coming to my lips being "Congratulations."

Congratulations? Sheesh. No more Red Bull for me....I'm cut off.