swallowing your pride

What is it about free shit that flips the greedy switch on? Why is it that our acquisitive nature becomes far more apparent when the act of acquiring requires, well, little work at all? Moreover, what has happened to the idea that something so dearly bought is so fiercely kept? (PHL 707, anyone?)

Apparently these concepts were given the red card this week, as everyone I know has been counting their gratis gifts in plain view, and drinking, and dancing like no one is watching. Or rather, like no one is paying.

On the nights when the cover is imaginary, capacity is elevated, and of course, the booze is free, why is it that we act less like ourselves, and more like...oh, I don't know, say, Brigitte Nielsen?

People can be senseless when the liquor is on the house. Some people will pick fights with those that they love. Some will give their numbers to those that they don't, and wont ever. Some people will point across a room on Queen West and say, "see that guy in the red plaid and thick black glasses?" and actually expect you to be able to use that description to identify any one single person.

Apparently, everyone left their scruples at home with their wallets this week. I think that from now on, I'd best pay my tab myself. But then again, it's hard to think strait on a Wednesday morning while your head is still pounding from Monday, which was still Thumping from Thursday, and with forty dollars that you didn't spend sitting neatly in your pretty back pocket.