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It wasn't exactly a lie. Not really. Perhaps I imparted a subtle bend to the truth, but I deny that it was a complete fib. I told Julie that I was on a medicine that would make me puke my guts out if I drank any alcohol. And that was the truth. At least it was the truth, last year.

Ya see, I had a fungus in my toenails a year ago October, and my doc put me on these pills to fix that, and if I drank any alcohol on top of that medicine I'd get sick as a dog. So last year I didn't drink for about three months. I told Julie that I couldn't drink on that medication, so it simply made sense for me to be the designated driver that Monday night, rather than her, and thus she could drink all she wanted. I thought we, meaning me and Dick and Lucky and Ray would have more fun if Julie was drinking, onna count of how Julie sometimes gets when she has been drinking. Made perfect sense at the time.

Monday night is football night, and there is this pizza place slash sports bar just fifteen minutes from where we all work where they put the game up on large flat screens, and a pretty big crowd usually shows up. It can get rowdy after folks get a few dozen beers in them. Somehow the tradition got started where ya could get some of the ladies to flash their tits, usually well into the second half and mostly when the Raiders were playing cause the folks who showed up to watch the Raiders are just a bit crazy. And the Raiders were going to be playing this week, and Julie has this serious set of tits and none of us had seen them, and we really wanted to see them. So getting a few beers into her ...

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