lamenotlame

ok, I'm busy busy, but I can spare 5 while the dishes soak. My super cool cousin and her boyfriend were in town from BC this weekend. Me: Swearing up and down the whole time the the weather isn't usually like this(cold and rainy); in my experience, a shakey sentiment at best in any location.
At The Red Room, we had a table near the stairs to the washroom [ever notice that every Toronto bar has their washrooms at the bottom of a steep and rickety set of stairs?]. A rat, not a mouse, a huge fucking rat comes running up the stairs and under the shoe of the nearest fella. I made large hand gestures and unintelligible half words, it fled back down the abysss before anyone else saw. It made another appearance as I was leaving the washroom, this time another girl was there to witness it too. I'm a social shrieker- I do it if everyone else is doing it. She did it. I did it. I always get embarrassed at my primal girly scared sounds. but there it was.
Just as I was trying to convince myself that the Red Room beer taps were clean enough to get draught from without getting doubly hung the next day. Alas, the next day beer shits, along with the rat, indicated otherwise.