When Alexis White awoke on New Year's Day, sometime in the afternoon, her head ached but it wasn't the worst hangover she'd ever had. She was thirsty and needed to pee, so she rolled out of bed and made her way to the bathroom.
She plopped down on the toilet, and the bathroom was small enough that she was able to reach over and pour a glass of water at the same time. As she sat there simultaneously relieving and rehydrating herself, she began to mentally reconstruct the previous night.
* * *
Jodie and Miss White had dinner at a steakhouse and headed to the bar, which was absolutely packed. It took forever to get a drink; the opening act was halfway through their set by the time Miss White emerged from the scrum with white wine for Jodie and a double rye for herself.
Miss White scrutinized the musicians onstage. It was an acoustic duo -- two girls in their mid- to late twenties -- who to Miss White's eye had a bit of a deer-in-the-headlights look. They had completely failed to engage the attention of the crowd, who were pretty much drowning them out with conversation; it was impossible to tell if they were even any good or not. They looked relieved when they finally finished their last song and slinked offstage to a tepid smattering of applause.
