Tequila vs. Beer
Sometimes I drink. Sometimes I drink with Miguel. Sometimes I drink very much with Miguel.
For me, there are two types of nights: 1) Beer nights and 2)Tequila nights.
They are muy diferente. I am not a good beer drinker. Beer is cheap and plentiful. When I drink beer, I can know for certainty that I will not be going home with any gringa because chances are I will not even be able to walk. If you see a gorgeous Guatemalan on a park bench, I was drinking beer.
Miguel is the opposite. He can drink beer all night long and you’d never know it. He’s even a better driver when he drinks.
Tequila, is better with me. If you find yourself being lured by an irresistible mustached Guatemalan, I’m either sober or was drinking Tequila. Miguel, bueno, Miguel is the opposite.
Miguel should not be allowed to drink Tequila. Ever. Nunca. Every bar in Washington DC should have his picture up with the words NO Tequila next to it.
Last night was a Tequila night. I know this for a couple of reasons. Miguel is on my floor beside the couch. You may ask why he is on the floor, but I put him there. Actually, I shoved him there. And then after I shoved him, I punched him a couple of times.
He didn’t fight back. Don’t worry. He’s not dead. Not yet.
Why the violence? Bueno, let me explain. I wake up this morning and see that my restroom trash bag is full of urine. It seems that Miguel felt it would be better to urinate in my trash bag than in the toilet, inches away.
Oh, it also appears that my stereo speakers also resemble a toilet because, well, my speakers are a bit sticky. I just got these speakers.
I don’t even know what to say right now. I think I’m going to punch Miguel some more. That seems to make me feel better.
Update 11:28 PM: The smell of Guatemalan urine is so putrid, that I don't know what to do with myself. I threw away my speakers and dumped the urine in the alley where the homeless usually go. I later discovered that mi "amigo" went in the corner behind a bookshelf. I don't even understand what that's about. In order to get the urine back there, he had to wedge his... Nevermind. I hate Miguel.