I have.

It wasn’t entirely my fault.

(I feel like distributing blame isn’t necessarily boding well for me in this situation.)

Yes, I ordered the highly alcoholic “grown-up” milkshake. And yes, I did so in full awareness that the ingredients included bacardi 151.

Despite the boyfriend’s warnings, “Babe. Are you sure?”

I just thought I was stronger than that. And plus, it had all that ice cream and carmelized bananas in it, how could it possibly make me drunk? Not to mention the foundation of a giant mahi-mahi burger coupled with fries.

There is really nothing worse than banana milkshake drunk. The icecream sits in your belly, hanging out with those uber sweet bananas while the bacardi bounces around in your head.

What you really need at this point is a good burp.

Sadly, I could only muster a few baby burps.

I was really sticky sweet and loopy.

But it was so worth it.  Maybe next time I should find a friend or five to share it with.