Mark vomited on her shoes.
“You drunk a-hole!” Gail screamed.
Mark blearily straightened himself out. “Sorry baby, but wearing brown shoes with a black dress is such a fashion faux pas, I couldn’t take it.”
“You need help, seriously.” Gail said, as she wiped her shoes on Mark’s tee shirt.
“I think that hot dog I had was bad.â€? Mark croaked.
“Right. You were fine with the 12 beers you had in the last three hours, but the hot dog, well that was too much.” Gail replied sarcastically.
“You’re right, it wasn’t the hot dog, it was the moldy bun.” Mark smiled crookedly because the right side of his face was numb.
“Mark, I am saying this as a friend, because as of this moment we’re through, but you have a drinking problem.” Gail said with a look that combined pity with fury.
“Tell me about it, I am out of beer.” Mark quipped.
Gail sighed, turned her back, and made a call on her cell phone for a ride.
Mark stared at the stain on his shirt, while a small tear trickled down his cheek.