It is not always the case, though. I try to stay until my feet are sore. But I notice these past few night outs with this particular friend of mine, I am always the one who leaves early (ooops). Boredom? Nah. Ambience? Maybe. Concerned that if I linger I might be the next frog princess? A big YES!
Tonight was a repeat. She needed a listening ear, I happily obliged. But when the clock stroke 11, I left. I needed to retire early as I have work tomorrow. It was past my bedtime. So I strutted to the nearest taxi bay and left my good friend in her misery. Bad, May, bad.
The good thing was, another friend joined us. Had it been my friend and me only, I would not be here writing this. I might have been torn into pieces, dilapidated into unrecognizable appearance, in a tug-of-war against her, myself as the rope and the opponent at the other end simultaneously. Or, most likely, being a diplomat with a diplomatic way of concluding a case, I would remain, dawdling with her as she drowns herself on a binge.
Now my clock screams a quarter to 1. And my laptop is running on reserved battery power. Instead of hitting the bed, I am producing words and phrases to fill a space on my blog. I left early, but unable to sleep early. My friend will surely kill me if she finds out about this! :p
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