Of course if Angela felt like behaving herself tonight (or any other night, really) she would have made a pit stop at the dinner table before the bar, but in her ever partying mind, the bar was closer and what's the point of walking all that way just to turn around and come back? There isn't one to be seen by her and besides, the bar is where all the interesting people seem to be and they are who she's chatting up in between drinks.

For now she's sticking to the eggnog, but Angela's history with eggnog is a long and sordid one. At least there are no photocopiers for her to put her ass on.