“Booze bags?” Fay lifts a brow. “How did you know?” Farrah asks, plugging her nose and throwing back the shot. “There are two types of hangovers when you girls come in. The first is just a regular hangover, where you look like death but still have your wits about you. Then there’s booze-bag drunk, where you both look like you slept in a dumpster and sucked on sugarcane the whole night.”
