Actually, this doesn't happen as often as it once did

Sometimes, people see me as a brainless party girl. No matter how many times I talk intelligently to them about Hegelian philosophy while stark raving drunk, they’re apt to clap their hand on my shoulder at any number of inappropriate times and say, “Aw, Kat? She’s just a good ‘ole party girl (read: alcoholic) like the rest of us.” What can one do but shrug and concede? I’m certainly not the type to disabuse people of their crazy notions. I will admit I have had some sexy parties, as Stewie would put it: people dressed up; people passed out; people called and thanked me afterwards. But word around here never gets back as small as it started. Whenever I begin recollecting a happening for listeners, one will almost always counter, “Oh, yeah, I heard about that,” and launch into a story that raises my eyebrows practically into my hairline before they finish. “Right,” I’ll agree weakly, “that’s about how it happened.”