The case of the missing jacket

It was Sunday. Superbowl Sunday. I was at BPs. I was drinking a whole bunch. It didn’t help that I already had six beers and a caesar in me before showing up for the big celebration.
My two friends and I grabbed a table right in front of the three big screens. The free food table was just out of arms reach and the bar was two steps away. It was the ideal location.
Being so close to the bar, we were the first table the Coors Light girls visited with a tray of shots.
I don’t remember how many I had. I’m not sure what kinds I drank. I do remember a few tequila and a couple Jager bombs and a creamy girls drink. It was ladies’ choice that time around.
We were watching the game. It started out great. Seattle scored first. It should have been a touchdown. That push-off penalty was crap.
I kept drinking, eating some appetizers and watching the game.
We also had some stimulating conversations. It was all about sports. Good stuff.
The BPs bartender came and sat with us. She even talked sports with us. I love ladies that can talk sports or will sit down and eat wings, play pool and catch the entire NHL playoffs with you.
She was very pleasant.
I then remember buying the North Stars coach a shot. He came over and started drinking with us along with the trainer.
Then I got up for more drinks. When I returned, my seat was snagged, so I sat down at another table with some other people.
The end of the game came around then. The final score sucked. I’m a Seahawks fan.
I wondered around some more and went back to my original seat and that’s where everything gets really fuzzy. The last round of shots were kicking in.
The next thing I remember is waking up at home.
I’m missing my jacket, which is no where to be found.
I’m told I went to a house party after BPs and somehow I just vanished from the party.
I also have a gash on my right forearm.
I’m collecting new information each day. Good old booze.
If anyone knows where my jacket is, please let me know. It’s starting to get cold.
I have a weird flavour beer in my fridge as a reward. No I don't know where it came from.