Night of the dyeing red

Last night, I went to a theatrical interpretation of the Night of the Living Dead movies: essentially, a thin veil of a plot to facilitate pelting the audience with spaghetti, fake limbs, and buckets upon buckets of fake blood. Totally awesome. Afterwards, we went to the Phone Booth, the stains of fake blood still spattered all over our faces and arms. Meyergami treated me to the largest, strongest, least ice-having cocktail I’ve ever had at a bar. I became drunk enough to try out some psoriasis-themed pick-up lines, but sadly, there were no eligible targets.