Alcohol Times with Russians

Last night was a pretty fun time.  In July, I went to a friend's Peruvian Day party and among the attendees were these two Russian girls (my bff almost went home with one of them, but besides the point).  So one of them is moving to NYC and the going away party was last night at a popular city bar.  I debated even going because I don't know her well, but I decided to bring my [man slut friend] Bob along and dip out if it wasn't a good time.  So the turnout for this girl's going away was on the low side, but we found ourselves having a really nice time, and Bob agreed to be the driver so I could drink.  I wasn't really planning to drink, but the vibe was right so I let myself have a few beers.  After most people left and we were all still socializing, they invited us and their remaining other [male] friend to come back to their apartment with them and continue drinking.  Bob agreed that it might be fun, so we made our way to their place.  (I was quite "fun drunk" already)  So back at their place they broke out the vodka...we had vodka screwdrivers, then I finished an opened bottle of wine, and possibly drank a few more collective beers...possibly, because I tend to steal others' already opened drinks when I'm drunk and the amount becomes difficult to measure.  They put on music and graciously played all our requests (Mickey Avalon My Dick!!), and at some point we all ended up salsa dancing in their tiny kitchen.  Also my Russian friends can *drink* vodka...as in unaffected by straight vodka shots.  Eventually 2am rolled around and the one girl was totes trying to sleep with Bob (he wasn't really into her), and we left on a good note.  Now I'd picked up Bob from his house and the original plan was for me to drop him back off and drive home, but by this point it was apparent that sobriety was beyond the evening's reach for me, so I asked Bob to just come back to my house and he could stay the night, be dropped back at his place in the morning.  I really took a gamble here, because I have a rule about not sleeping in the same bed as any guy I wouldn't fool around with, and Bob and I have fooled around on two occasions (both of which I wasn't super into and really regretted).  But surprisingly [thankfully] nothing happened.  Bob drove my drunk ass home with a good sense of humor and we went to sleep...not even any snuggling.  I vaguely remember resting my icy feet on his leg initially because they were so cold, but it wasn't anything and we both fell asleep pretty quickly...which is difficult when the world is spinning.    I need to be sure not to get too complacent with Bob though, because even though nothing happened this time, he seems to make a move when I least expect it.  It wasn't anything, but part of me also feels a little disappointed in myself for basically bringing him home and putting myself in a position where something could've happened that I'd regret...it's playing with fire.  Besides the bitchin' day-long headache, it was a successful night!