Holy Frijoles

We had a big drunk planned at Mike's cabin, just a crowd of us that worked together. A new guy, Gonzalo, started working with us a few weeks earlier so we asked him along too. Since he was new to the group (and new to the country) he had no idea how much we drank at events like this. We stopped at a beer store near the cabin for some supplies and I was waiting at the checkout. Gonzalo came up on the side of me with a six-pack and looked at the dozen under my arm and said "Holy crap - you're going to drink a dozen beer". I turned around and showed him the dozen under my other arm and said "No - two dozen". Then Mike and everybody else came over to the checkout with a dozen and a half or two dozen each. When I told him we also had a few bottles of rum in the car he nearly shit. I told him some of my philosophies - "You don't have to drink them all", "They don't go bad" and "It's better to have too many than not enough" but he stuck with his girlie six-pack. Of course two hours later he was out on the road hitching a ride back to the beer store. He should have taken the advice of the experienced drinkers.

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