Speaking of overserved, Facebook friends have already seen this photo from my immediate post-college years:
Here is the follow up photo:
I am about to lose whatever scant amount of virtue I had. My tie is undone. In about a nanosecond I will be yelling at the photographer to call 911. Even so, there is no way am I going to spill bourbon from that cheesy plastic Best Western tumbler, previously sanitized for my protection. Like every 110% Wahoo in a rented tuxedo, I don't think I've had enough to drink. Liquor may be quicker, but I'm sure that I'm thinking that it's not quick enough.
And in case you were wondering, no, I didn't call the next day. Not the girl in the party dress, nor the other two guys in tuxedos (one of whose surname I can't even remember), nor the other woman, in a party dress of her own. There wasn't any need to call. They were all right there, looking just as disheveled as I was--maybe even worse--all in a agreement that we had a helluva good time.
I still have, and wear, the shoes (black Alden oxfords) I bought at Bostonian, Ltd. to wear to that event. Classic footwear, like good party photos, never goes out of style.
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