To Cheap Drunks

“Wheeee!” Charlie announced. “I'm tipsy!” The slur in her voice agreed with her statement.

“You've had exactly two shots, Charlie,” I said. I was working on my second glass of wine and was not even close to buzzed.

“Doesn't matter! Tipsy!” She proceeded to wobble back and forth across the length of the room, dropping her shirt off somewhere in the process.

“Whoah!” Tom shouted. “I didn't think this was that kind of party!” He was working on his third Coke. Complete teetotaler, though we didn't mind. I think he got entertained just by watching us.

Jessica looked at Tom from where she was lounging upside-down at the seat of the recliner. “You know waay better than that, Tommy,” she said. “When alcohol gets involve in this house, it always turns into that kind of party.”

“I'm just too warm,” Charlie giggled. She flopped down onto a convenient pile of pillows. “And someone doesn't like to turn the AC on.”

I shrugged, smirked, and did a poor job of feigning embarrassment. This provoked laughter from the whole room. I raised my glass.

“To cheap drunks,” I said. The rest of my guests raised theirs in kind, some clinking against their neighbors.