» Chloe never got much time to herself. Sure, she lived alone, but it always felt as though she was busy. She had her commitments to the local police department and the Marines to deal with, and had to make sure she stayed in top shape for them. She never seemed to get time to herself just to get smashed; or, even if she wasn't intent on getting drunk, she wanted to at least do something outside of her apartment that didn't involve work. A party, a sporting event- anything! Earlier, she tried going to the paintball grounds. She was in full gear and everything, her gun fully loaded with extra paintballs strapped to her belt. But, of course, the only other people there were just leaving, and so she was left all alone. No biggie, right? So she just went back home, and played around on her laptop for a little bit. A conversation with some random guy on instant messenger sparked her want- need, possibly?- for alcohol.

» Of course, when she checked in her fridge, there was none. Of course. When she really wanted to get smashed, there was never any available. She would have to go out. It probably wasn't the best idea in the world to go out drinking alone, considering all the horror stories she'd heard about people who did that and ended up having some random guy's kid, but she figured, what were the chances she'd get so smashed that she woke up next to someone? She vowed that she would try as hard as she could to either not get completely drunk- hah, like that would be preventable- or keep enough common sense not to go home with anyone. She would just have to see what the evening held.

» Stepping into the bar, she was glad there were plenty of other people there- less chances that she'd get singled out as someone to take home and have hot drunken sex with, right? That, plus, if she did get completely shitfaced, chances were that someone would have the common sense to make sure she didn't choke and die on her own puke. But then again, it was a bar, after all, and the others would probably just as drunk- if not more so- as she. Whatever, she decided, finding an open spot near the corner at the counter and sitting down. "Tequila, three shots," she said to the bartender, who nodded and turned around to grab the drinks. It was her drink of choice; having such a thing might be a bit concerning, considering that she was just barely of legal drinking age, but hey, as far as she was concerned, it wasn't really a problem. As long as she could do her jobs and didn't show up for work drunk, it was fine. Besides, it wasn't like she got drunk every day, or had to have a few beers each night. No, she could do perfectly well without alcohol, she reasoned. She didn't need it.

» Yawning a little, she nodded, thanking the bartender as he handed her the three shots, and downed all three quickly, swishing the last one around in her mouth a couple times before swallowing it. It wasn't enough to get her drunk- not quite- but she did have a nice buzz going. Two or three more three-shot rounds would probably do the trick. She she called the bartender over and asked for three more shots. The night was young and she had a lot of drinking to do.

visual aids; Top ; Bottom ; Shoes
notes; Sorry for the epic amount of fail. D: I swear I post longer than this usually.