Contrary to popular belief, the dome is not always home. At least for bin.
The night was Christmadome in July, and started out very stereotypically for hag, bin and I (Jizz), pouring back tequila shots as if they were water.
12 o’clock came around which means it’s time to head over to the dome. We all got into the cab, bin being clearly too drunk but also very persistent to make it downtown. Upon our arrival at the dome, Hag and I sat bin down at a table near the bar while we went to order ourselves drinks. We turn around to see not bin, but an empty table covered in puke.
Bin went MIA for the night. Later we found out she got thrown out of the dome, puked on herself and got a ride home with the cops.
Moral of the story: the dome is certainly not bins home