I can only imagine how many people thought the poem, “A One Night Stand,” was actually about being with a nameless man, when in fact, it wasn’t. I’m not a heavy drinker, and often enough it doesn’t settle well with me, so I don’t do it. Wine is about as much as you’ll see me have. The story was inspired by an evening I had with former co-workers in Glendale 1996, shortly after I left that employment due to the establishment closing and the department relocating.
The night of the celebration was to acknowledge my birthday along with a few others whom also had birthdays in August. One friend offered to buy me shots of Tequilla…I should have stopped at one, instead, I had probably 3 or 4, but it was enough for me to lose control of the rest of my body. In the end, I lost an article of clothing. Fortunately I had on designer nylons and a killer pair of high heels and the shirt was long enough that it almost could have been a dress. For weeks that followed I swore someone stole some of my clothes while in the process of moving into my own apartment. It was the day I actually moved that I had a quick flash of memory that I remembered what happened to the bottom of that outfit. It got lost or rather left in the bathroom of RJ Grins in Glendale.
To date I don’t drink Tequilla. In fact I stay away from it. I had one shot at a party I recently attended, but quickly halted all other attempts to give me more. So, that poem was dedicated to the horrible reaction I had to Tequilla.
Poetic Flow
