8:30 p.m. — I arrive at the bar in my gym attire and my friend, Z, is working and the bar is empty, as I had expected. I order a water and some chicken tenders. My stomach is still messed up from vomiting, but I’m ravenous so I chose something that I knew would be easy. Z and I catch up and talk about our lives. My tenders arrive and I pick the bread off like a weirdo. They do the job and I’m feeling much better. A little while later some friends of mine happen to come into the bar too, so I decide to stick around. Z gives me a PBR. He only charges me for my food ($9) so I just give him a $20 and tell him thanks.