Joe called to say that Richard had decided not to come tonight, but tomorrow morning instead. Then he called back later to say that that had bothered him so much that he called him back, they'd had an hour-long conversation, and now he needed a drink.
I met him at Flex at 11:30ish. We each downed a bullet bottle of Goldschlaggers, which started a long, drunk night. At least I wasn't the one to throw up twice.