Whiskey = Awkward morning

So this morning, I arrive home and walk through the door as nonchalantly as humanly possible while smelling like I had a wild romp with Jack Daniels himself last night. I almost make it to my room when my mother comes out from nowhere

    “Hey honey! How was your night?”
   
Well, now that’s a loaded question that I can guarantee she doesn’t want to know the answer to. Do you think that your sweet mother would like to hear that you spent the night at the local dive bar with friends getting incredibly trashed, doing a ridiculous amount of whiskey shots with the local townies, then proceeding to get on stage and sing “Pour Some Sugar On Me” with the cover band that happened to be playing that night? Oh yes, and you can’t forget also getting into a fight with the Taco Bell employee over whether or not you ordered 3 or 4 soft tacos (and for the record, I did order 4 tacos, thank you very much). Yeah, she doesn’t want to hear that. I settled for the next best thing.
   
    “Oh, you know…Not bad. Lindsay and I just went to dinner and hung out at her place. Nothing too exciting”

    She raises her eyebrow. She knows me too well but knows better than to say anything because like I previously mentioned, she doesn’t want to know.

I need my own place.