The Nancy Factor

I seem to be among the Valentine's Day survivors. No thanks to the phenomenon hereafter known as the Nancy Factor. The Nancy Factor, or NF, involves drinking shots, often driving to some remote location, meeting strange and sometimes interesting and occaisionally cute guys, dancing, frequently witnessing a fight, and staying up so late that yesterday blurrs into today. I received a pink, ridiculously long-stemmed rose at the Bitter Ball which is still on the dashboard of my car. I didn't bring it in because Einstein becomes weirdly aroused in the presence of flowers and often eats them. He can hop up on the table, deftly remove a blossom from the vase and have it secreted away in the basement for future chomping without anyone being aware that he was in the room at all. Holy cat ninja, Batman, who tipped over the floral arrangement. Other high points include dancing til they kicked us out of Borrowed Bucks, which, by the way has the most lovely bathrooms even without the disclaimer of calling them bar bathrooms and being entertained at three am in Perkins by Kyle and his most drunken friend who had his head down on the table and a pastry take-out bag at the ready just in case we were sitting in the barfing section of the establishment. In the crush of people vacating the bar at closing time, a very drunk and beaming young man informed me that I looked like a teacher. But that it was okay because he thought I was really hot. I thanked him most graciously. I had to slip on my wine nazi hat for just a moment and inform the bartender that, yes, indeed there is a difference between champagne and asti. We saw up close magic tricks involving a match box, ropes that mysteriously altered their lengths and coins, one of which he pulled out of Nancy's ear. I met a cute guy named Dave while I was sipping a glass of Bitch at Latitude 44. Bitch is a red grenache that was actually quite tasty. At this moment I am desperately in need of coffee and then will torment myself with the Sunday crossword. After which I predict a nap will be necessary. And as soon as I can get my hands on the sd card from Nancy's camera, I'll share photos of the latest NF evening. Wish I had an orange scone from Panera. Where is that magician from last night when I really need him.