thirty two

Katie:

Shot Count: six.

"More!" Katherine clamored, slamming her shot glass on the counter. The barman turned around, setting aside the napkin he was just using to clean, and came to attend to Katherine's order.

Make that the seventh shot of whiskey.

"I…wa— I want vodka." She slurred, changing her order and I immediately faced her with urgency. She has to be kidding me.

Vodka would drive her insane, she's far gone as it is and we should really be getting home. But here she is asking for vodka now? She can't handle it. She can't handle it anymore.

"Katherine, that's enough. You can't have vodka. You've already had six shots of whiskey and this is your first time taking alcohol, you should slow down a bit." I tried to reason with her, but she shook her head vigorously in naught, burping right after.

"You…can't tell me— me what to…do Katie. Katherine wants…vodka, Katherine ge— gets vodka." She snapped back at me, her speech uncoordinated and her own burps interrupting her statement