He awakes to the beep of his alarm clock. 8 o'clock. His head still pounding from last night. How many shots did he have? He can't remember. He gets up and takes a few aspirin, then starts a pot of coffee. He stumbles in the bathroom grabbing a razor noticing some stubbles. He asks himself what's the point of going into work anymore? After shaving, he stood up straight trying to recall the event that had taken place last night. He grabbed his phone and searched it seeing if there was any evidence of last night. He then got a message.
*Had fun last night. Hope we can do it again ;)
He replied telling, whoever it was, that he was sorry, but he didn't remember anything from last night. He asked if they could explain to him what happened. They explained what happened.
* I had my eyes on you from the moment you walked into the bar. I walked over and got us some drinks. After a little bit you were kinda tipsy. I asked if you wanted to dance you said sure. Then you said you had to go because you had to work tomorrow. We exchanged numbers and that was that.
-I'm sorry. I normally don't get that drunk. I'll make it up to you. Dinner tonight at 8.
Then he picks up his briefcase, grabs his keys, puts his phone in his pocket, and drives off to work.
They send him their address and before he knows it it's 5 til 8. Shit, he mentally cusses himself, because he hasn't even left the office.
He decides to text them and tell them he'll be a little late because he got caught up in work. He scrambles to put his stuff in his bag and heads out the door. He stops on his way at a flower shop and buys some daisies. Then heads to pick her up.
