Tic-Tac to the Rescue

A Couple of nights ago I was out with a few friends celebrating and I guess I had a few drinks more than usual. Usual is no drinks. But we were celebrating. I like Southern Comfort. I like my Southern Comfort straight up or on the rocks, plain and simple. As the night wore on, people were getting loud and conversations were becoming a bit confusing. One of my friends asked,
”Joe, would you like a tic-tac?”,
I remember projecting my voice across the loud table a few times, mostly while asking ”I’m sorry, what did you say?” But now I was a bit embarrassed, thinking to myself, do I have Southern UnComfort breath. Maybe I was exhaling remnants of swallowed SoCos at my friends across the table. Not wanting to offend, I graciously responded with, ”Sure, I’ll have a tic-tac.”
A few minutes later one of the bartenders delivered a tray of drinks to our table. I was instructed to drop the shot glass filled with Rum into a larger glass of Red Bull and something else and then drink. Well, I drunk, was drunk, no, I drank … well anyway … you get the idea.