Forgetting the Alamo

As you all know (I think), I used to work for the organization that was putting on the meeting that we were attending in San Antonio. I had never just been an attendee to the meeting - always either an intern or an employee. I like attendee much, much better than both.


After flying in on Thursday night, I met Diddy, Match.mom, and PapaBear at the hotel bar. We had a few drinks and Diddy and I headed out to meet with Dirty, Janiac, and some of my former coworkers. 


We had a good time catching up while Dirty and Janiac went to the piano bar. Diddy and I never made it there, instead calling it an early night and heading to bed to rest up for the adventure that was sure to come. 


Friday morning dawned, Diddy went to a meeting, I went to the gym, and Dirty showered. 


After our Puffy Adventure, we headed to the room for Diddy to change and then to head to the Convention Center. We did a few walks around the trade show, nothing too exciting occurred. Although I did run into the Hottest Man Alive and talk to him for a bit. 


Then we headed up to see what was happening in a couple of meetings and visit with some friends. 


Once the membership committee meeting was over, I coerced (trust me there was a lot of arm-twisting) my former coworkers into starting happy hour, and the fun began.


After lots of drinks (Diddy had seis Presidente Margaritas and a shot of tequila) and a few appetizers, we headed to the hotel to change into our clothes for the night event. There was scheduled to be a bull riding and concert off-site so we had to ride buses to get there. So we changed our clothes and headed to the hotel bar to meeting Match.mom and PapaBear and have a few more drinks before catching the bus. 


(Yes, if you are keeping track, we are now too many drinks in and Diddy has announced, "This train is leaving the station.")


The bull riding side of the bar was packed and we couldn't see anything so we kept drinking and moved to the dance floor/concert side of the bar. 


It was here that we found Banana and her crew.


And kept drinking.


I know at least two more shots of tequila were consumed - I can not be sure if that was it.


At the end of the night, we boarded the bus back to the hotel. Apparently everyone on our bus was feeling the same as we were, and we talked the bus driver into dropping us off at a 24-hour Mexican food restaurant.


Somehow, Diddy, Dirty, another friend, and I were the only ones who made it to the restaurant, but that didn't concern us. After some delicious Velveeta-smothered burritos, we made the walk back to our hotel.


Dirty's flight was scheduled to leave at some ungodly hour, so by the time Diddy and I woke up, she was already gone. (We still don't know how she managed to get out of bed and make it in time.)


As the morning unfolded, Diddy and I began slowly remembering (or piecing together) the night before. 


Apparently, our friend only fell while dancing. She did not throw up on the dance floor.


And we allegedly did leave another friend at the bar when we got on the bus. 


Rumor has it I danced more than I thought I did. 


However, Dirty had a conversation with Honker that she can not recall and I had a (very long) conversation with a gentleman from Georgia and I can not remember the content of it.


We do know that when we woke up in the morning, our hotel room resembled that of The Hangover, minus the chicken and the tiger.


And luckily, Diddy still had all of his teeth.


As our cab driver kept saying on the way to the airport, while laughing and shaking his head, "Tequila..."