When a gentleman commits himself to spending the entire evening in the presence of like-minded gentlemen and fellow scholars, he does not waste time nitpicking over the folly of “good decision-making,” knowing full well that amidst such esteemed company nothing could possibly go wrong. Though he’s many things to many people, a gentleman is not a fortune teller, and thus he resigns himself to the night and whatever baubles and good tidings it may bring his way. Intelligently allowing the night’s future outcome to rest in the white gloved hand of fate, a gentleman lives solely in the here and now, focusing on what is truly important: Sophisticated conversation, classy camaraderie and of course consuming drink strong enough to kill a small, petting zoo pony. To hell with whatever pickles, predicaments and pesky situations may arise due to his actions!

GentlemanRefugee: HOLY fuck
SandBagger: talk to me, goose
GentlemanRefugee: i just snuck into the office and feel like complete shit
SandBagger: hahaha, it’s 11:40 what happened?
GentlemanRefugee: i need bacon, egg and cheese pronto
GentlemanRefugee: honestly, i don’t even know
SandBagger: was your ‘mellow night’ hijacked by a beernado?
GentlemanRefugee: try a fucking tsunami
GentlemanRefugee: i think i woke up on a piece of drift wood
SandBagger: hahahaha
GentlemanRefugee: the drift wood of course being the area of bedding underneath my body that was not soaked in vomit
SandBagger: of course
SandBagger: are there still refugees lost at sea?
GentlemanRefugee: who knows?
GentlemanRefugee: I’d met Jeremy and his buddies from college at some west village bar
GentlemanRefugee: they had all these VT microbrews on tap, which is where they all went to school
GentlemanRefugee: so of course we decide to ‘ride the rail’ — aka drink every microbrew on tap
SandBagger: naturally
GentlemanRefugee: plus squeeze in a few whiskeys — which they called wedges
GentlemanRefugee: the last thing I remember was trying to order another beer and being refused service
SandBagger: that’s rude
GentlemanRefugee: UNTIL
GentlemanRefugee: i was being thrown out of a cab on the brooklyn bridge by my irate pakistani driver
SandBagger: WHAT?!
SandBagger: did you puke in the car?
GentlemanRefugee: no, apparently i didn’t have enough cash and i’d realized i’d left my credit card at the bar cause i forgot to close out my tab
GentlemanRefugee: he just straight up pulled over on a fucking bridge in traffic and threw me out, all the while cursing me in his foreign tongue
GentlemanRefugee: imagine being brought back into reality by a man like that?
GentlemanRefugee: NOT a pleasant experience
SandBagger: hahahaha, thats hysterical
SandBagger: did you tell him that you’d meticulouslyaccounted for the journey in IOUs?
SandBagger: and that you were good for it? that your word is your bond?
GentlemanRefugee: nah, I think my credit has run out all over this town
GentlemanRefugee: so I had to walk over the bridge — with traffic! — and back to carrol gardens
SandBagger: ha! i am surprised you didn’t get arrested
GentlemanRefugee: but not before I used the little cash I did have to buy a 40 at a bodega and bum a smoke from someone
SandBagger: at least your priorities were on autopilot
GentlemanRefugee: well i had to cool my shaky nerves with a little nip
GentlemanRefugee: this is all of course before i made it home only to puke in my sleep during the night
SandBagger: hahahahaha
GentlemanRefugee: and now I have to give a presentation to my boss
GentlemanRefugee: fuck i wished i’d just choked on my own vomit last night
GentlemanRefugee: somebody kill me
SandBagger: so. much. awesome.

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