Last night, I went to an inservice on a new drug we will be using on the floor. The drug sounds horrible. We start giving it next week.
The plan was for me to go home from the inservice, but some of the day nurses talked me into going out with them as they were having a going-away dinner for another nurse who was smart enough to transfer to another floor. I hesitated, but they wouldn't take no for an answer, even going so far as to take my keys away.
So, I went.
We went to The Kona Grill...which is on the Plaza. For a Wednesday, the place was PACKED. Fortunately, we had a table reserved.
I had heard once that a lot of Chiefs players hang out at Kona. I can validate this rumor as truth as I saw a couple of them there. For every one of them, there were at least 6 ho's clamouring to be the date for the evening. Shameless skanks...their Johnson county parents must be so proud. Their little girls with their advanced degree in party-planning, going out to score some big rich football player, so they can get pregnant and suckle off the tit that is the Chiefs payroll. They wouldn't have to go too far...I hear a handful of players have their DNA on permanent record with the Division of Family Services for paternity purposes.
Because purposely getting knocked up by a footballer is such a lucrative venture! Just ask the five women who had Derrick Thomas's kids. They are just RAKING in the dough.
One table over from us was Larry Johnson. Him and his friend (who I am assuming is also a player) were busy eating and texting on their little phones. Women at my table we all agog.
Please! I might have been more impressed if the Chiefs actually made it to the playoffs.
Aftewards, the majority of the nurses wanted to go to this whole in the wall dive. I declined. A hot bath sounded better. As a pleasant surprise, the drug rep (who was invited to come along because she was all alone), paid the tab for our entire table...on her company account. God bless drug reps!!!
18 nurses + sushi + $10 per drink = insane final bill