She said she wanted to do something crazy. Which pretty much turned out to be code for ‘let’s fuck everything up.’ It always had. And for the most part, I played right into it. ‘Operation let’s fuck everything up’ first began when we arrived at a little hole in the wall, dive bar, where Amelie insisted that I take a shot with her. “Just one.” She pleaded all doe-eyed, innocently beckoning my demise. Did I mention that I hate bars? Well, this place, I’m pretty sure is the worst of them all. It was dank and musty and dimly lit. Not to mention, crowded and loud—all of the things I abhor. Out of all the nicer more upscale places we could’ve chosen along the way, she picked this one. Only God knows why. “I heard the music was good here.” Amelie leaned in close to say as though she’d read my mind. “Come on, one shot—maybe two for me and then we’ll go…” She begged as she yanked on my hand.
