Wednesday is Happy Hour. It just is. We go to an anonymous, chain-y Irish pub where no one ever notices if we laugh too loud or have 'adult' conversations or accidentally feel each other up or Salsa dance around the tables (to Depeche Mode, somehow it works).
Typically, there are four of us. Tonight there were three. The loudest three. The three who are most likely to entertain ourselves.
Tonight we were planning for next weeks birthday trip to Austin. With one Texas native and two new to Texas, it's possible that Texas should be scared. We're taking the elastic pants, drinking margaritas, looking for a birthday kiss and maybe doing a little karaoke too.