On Friday night, after picking up hubby from work and driving three hours to Savannah, we barely had time to check into our hotel, change clothes, and head down to the riverfront for dinner. At the time, neither of us knew that Savannah was the St. Patrick’s Day party destination before we got there, but we sure do now!
We called down to the front desk of our hotel and asked them to summon a cab. Not two minutes later, they rang back and told us our cab was waiting. So we grabbed our stuff and headed out…only to find a fifteen passenger van parked out front, full of college kids.
We climbed in and it felt like mom and dad had arrived to chaperone.
So much for our romantic weekend getaway.
We celebrated our 16th wedding anniversary at an enormous frat party.
Only we could pull off a stunt like this… completely unintentionally.
Even worse, we woke up on Saturday morning with a couple of the worst hangovers of our lives. It felt like we’d put away a bottle of tequila and finished off the worm too.
Sadly, the “worst hangover of our lives” was from splitting a bottle of chardonnay while eating pricey fish at a candlelit restaurant perched four stories above said frat party.
I think we’ve lost our edge.