A receipt of the past

I put on a coat for an interview the other day. Apparently, it’s one that I hadn’t worn for some time as when I reached in to the pocket, I found a receipt from December 17, 2004. For those who prefer to shy away from math, that’s 5 1/2 years ago. Had it been from the grocery store, that would have been rather banal, but as it was, it was from Trader Vic’s. For those who are more recent to San Francisco, this spot is no longer around. It was on the edge of the Loin and supposedly the place where the Mai Tai was invented, although that is up for debate.
The specific night that I was there is one that I only somewhat remember as it was after the Christmas party for San Francisco Magazine where I was the IT Manager at the time. The party was actually a lunch party at the Culinary Academy (also not there anymore) where I had a couple glasses of wine. Being an idiot with a second-rate girlfriend at the time who didn’t drink (have upgraded since), I was completely ready to go along to get more drinks afterwards. This then involved a colleague proceeding to ” break me” by talking me in to one drink after another to the point where I couldn’t even talk at the bar when going up for the next round.
Amazingly, I was not bounced or cut off. Not amazingly, the bartender was happy to let me pay the bill and add in a 40% tip on drinks that had not been bought. Thankfully, the colleague who had “beat his liver in to submission years ago” saw this perversion of billage and went up to fix it which explains why I actually found two receipts in my pocket.
Being hungover for two days after that night and berated as to why drinking was so stupid by the second-rate girlfriend at the time, I wondered why I had left this receipt in my pocket. Was there something about the night that was a key to my future success? Was this a sign of things to come? Was there a coded message in this to my future 2010 self? Have I been watching too much Lost? Unfortunately, much like the series finale of Lost, this night out sucked and I am just surprised to see that this jacket not only still fit me, but also hadn’t been worn in six years. Goodbye receipt. Thanks for reminding me of vomit, crappy, syrupy Mai Tais, and a quiet lad from Wales having to tell the cab driver at the bar where I lived.