Halfway through supper, we understand sheвЂ™s drunk.
WeвЂ™re dining a la fresco over plates of coho salmon and cups of dark wine. ItвЂ™s some of those gloriously hot Northern nights where in fact the sunвЂ”which never sets this time around of yearвЂ”hangs bright and clear within the western and everything assumes a soft, sepia-tinted radiance. The restaurant sits beside the Chena River,* which runs lazy and brown beside us, high in ducks and gulls. ItвЂ™s basically maximum degree intimate for Fairbanks, Alaska.
Except that my date, Alice, is half into the case.
I was thinking we smelled liquor on her behalf breathing whenever I got when you look at the vehicle together with her, but we dismissed it; weвЂ™d been together almost all of the dayвЂ”when the hell would she have experienced time for you get drunk? She inadvertently answers my unspoken concern whenever she reaches on her behalf phone and negligently actually leaves the most effective element of her case openвЂ”i could view a Gatorade container amid a few documents, three-quarters packed with a golden liquid that is demonstrably perhaps perhaps perhaps not an electrolyte-replacing sports beverage. Continue reading “We Drove 1,000 Kilometres for the Lesbian Tinder Date From Hell”