Saturday, July 29, 2006

Friday Night Adventurisms

Ooh, trickery! You like that? I know you do.

But I digress; Friday night had quite a bit of Stone-induced mischief. After a long work week in the books, I celebrated with a bottle of Ruination, Stone’s Double IPA (remember?). Afterwards, I met up with a friend at Billy’s Long Bar for some happy hour drinks. Nothing too eventful happened. There was the usual ogling of the waitstaff, wondering what fights would break out (we saw one almost start, which my friend had correctly predicted), and general bullshitting.

We left the bar around 10. I had to run back to the house, but I told my friend I’d meet him at the next destination we were going: Horse and Angel. By the time I get there, my friend is in the parking lot talking to an obviously drunk girl, who said she had just been kicked out for fighting with someone else. They seemed to be hitting it off fairly well. I could tell by the way she kept rubbing up on him. They started getting closer, so I took that as a cue to go into the bar and wait for them to have their fun.

Five minutes later, they walk in the bar and tell me we’re going to his apartment to do a little drinking. He drives her, as she’s too drunk to drive. When we get there, I see her in proper light and almost lose it. On top of her near-drunken stupor, she had quite the haggard look to her. I think Josh noticed this, too. He said we needed to go to the store to get alcohol (we did), so we all pile in his truck and go to the closest store. We walk to the liquor section and start looking around. Miss Drunky is being horribly difficult, so Josh takes me to the side and whispers, “Greg, start walking to the truck. I’ll be right behind you.”

Instead of questioning, I start to walk back to his truck. Halfway through the parking lot, I look behind me and see Josh running out as fast as he can. We both run to the truck, pile in, and speed off, laughing, half out of shock (me) and half out of spite (Josh). Remember: her car is still at a bar halfway across town. And rather than calling it a night, we pick up my car and head off to a bar just down the street. There, I steal a shot of Jaeger someone so carelessly left on the bar, drink an Arrogant Bastard, got shot down by a girl who was OBVIOUSLY a lesbian, and almost get in a fight with three guys much bigger than me.

We were leaving the bar, and as I approach my car, I hear someone saying something about the two white guys walking to the green car. Assuming 1) they were talking shit, and 2) the shit was directed towards me, I start to yell about how cool they are they can talk shit to their friends about the white guys, and that when they get home, they should tell their friends and family about how they really showed us. There was more, all of it loud and caustic, but I can’t remember at the moment. Well, they didn’t take too kindly to it and started walking our way. I tell Josh this is our cue to leave, so we part ways, get in our cars, and drive off. As I do, I see two guys trying to scale a chain-link fence that had divided us, followed by a loud CLUNK on the hood. Upon further inspection this morning, they had hit my roof with a rock. Better that than the back window.

So yeah, there’s Friday evening in a nutshell. It’s good to be back. We’ll talk soon, fooligans.

4 comments:

Katy said...

Oh Greg. Hilarity indeed. But how did the ugly drunk girl get home? I feel real bad for her. I like that her actions in the bar parking lot required 2 prepositions (ahem, rubbing up on). It is my opinion that the more prepositions, the dirty the deed. Glad you're back.

Patrick W. Rollens said...

Holy twisted humor, Batman, that's an amazing post! I wept bitter tears for the poor troll you stranded at the liquor store, but she should learn that men (and by that I mean all men) are a callous and angry lot, not to be trifled with.

And you capped off the night with an Arrogant Bastard. Good form!

Greg "Danger" Klein said...

Yes, one positional modifier couldn't quite capture it, I had to go 3-D on yo asses.

I tried to feel bad for her, but it's too damn funny. I just hope she was too drunk to remember where my friend's apartment is.

3kalb said...

Class act.