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The room was a haze, her steps heavy with drunken determination. She stood at the doorway and gazed out, seeing double. The rain fell in sheets outside, and not wanting to endure the downpour, she retreated back into the club. She looked left to read a poster, but abandoned such hope as the words melted together. She looked right with disgust at the lowly bartenders shooting disapproving leers. She should have been looking down, because unbeknownst to her, the floor ended in a cascade of stairs she had walked up and down a hundred times before.
The floor jumped up from out of nowhere, knocking her sideways as her purse regurgitated its belongings. She looked up to notice lights on the far wall, and soon realized she had hit the floor. Dazed, she felt herself lift up under the close watch of two of her friends. And then, it was time to leave.
Okay, enough with the narrative stylings of your favorite Sidesho attraction. I just promised Leslie that I would find a creative spin on the fact that she ate it hardcore in the middle of Boyz Cellar. That was the only way I could procure permission to even tell the story. Those of you who know her won't be surprised ... those of you who have met her won't be surprised ... those of you who know of her won't be surprised ... those of you who read this site a lot won't be surprised ... but everyone else will be fucking floored!
We had to leave early that night, but luckily our knight in shining armor, Brandon, was there to save the day and drive us back to Round Rock so we didn't have to wait in the rain for a taxi. "We" was Leslie, Jon Steed and yours truly. It was still relatively early and the rest of us were relatively sober so Jon and I sat up drinking beers and discussing politics. Lesbie Ann joined us for a spell but retired before we did. The next day we woke up and had lunch and then I hit the road for Brandon's house.
He fumbled about for a bit, not wanting to extend the good bye, just delay it. A furtive look about at his surroundings and he fixated on her. He was leaving her, and didn't know when he would see her again. A moment. Hugs and pleasantries exchanged, he strode to the car and waved a final time.
Ehh, I had to give my embarassing moment some granduer as well. It was then that our everyman realized he'd locked his fucking keys in his car. What happened was I put Tuna in the car in his Taco Bell traveling cup, but didn't want him to swelter while I was saying goodbye to Leslie so I reached in and cranked on the AC and then shut the door ... but not before remembering to lock it. So I stood outside of Leslie's for like 30 minutes as my gas ran out for 2 bucks a fucking gallon. Luckily, I had turned on the AC (although that was the problem in the first place) because Tuna would have died. So I remained calm.
I finally got on the road and made it to Brandon's house, and we went to the mall. I got to see where he works. Then we got all cute and headed out to the Pride Parade. I had no idea that it was pride, but whatever, I just go with the flow. Ran into my old pal Craig and my older pals Rossi and Brad, so that was cool. Danced the night away, but didn't get drunk. Today I drove back to Dallas amidst throngs of biking enthusiasts and it took almost 5 hours. Now its pouring rain and my first day of work is tomorrow. I'm nervous and should be in bed, but I wanted to fill everyone in on the last weekend of freedom I will ever experience ... well, until I get fired for going to work drunk. But hopefully that won't be for many days.
Wish me luck, I'm sure I'll update tomorrow with hilarious antics from the office ... Since now I have my degree, and I do engineering in my engineering office. Bah. Laaaaaaaaate you have nots.
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