Being the bat that I am, I prefer to be out in the evenings but Saturday nights are not my favorite. It's the night all the yuppies come out and pollute my stompin' grounds but this particular Saturday I was in the mood for booze.
The night begins right after work when my favorite co-workers decided it was time for tequila, meaning it was time to visit our favorite Uncle Julio. 4 drinks and 2 veggie fajitas later, my accomplice and I were ready to ditch the patio and stumble over to my place. We decided we were not getting too crazy due to my morning yoga class and her need to pack before her big move so i decided driving would be our best bet. I would just pace myself for the night and if things got out of control I could leave the car behind my salon, no big deal. So, we head back to my place, did some freshening up, grabbed a couple drinks at the bar below me, and headed out to meet my gimp friend who runs Saturdays at Lava. After driving around for a bit I found a parking spot near our destination that was so random I was convinced I would need to leave a trail to find my way back.
We entered Lava to find my friend sitting with here crutches sippin on water and redbull, low key night. A couple drinks in on my part and all of a sudden M was ready for Jameson shots, typical. A few of those and a couple hours I don't remember later and I'm wasted. The next thing I can pull from my toasted memory is me turning around to find my boss standing behind me and my accomplice and me hopping into my boss's friends vehicle to head up the street to flat iron. This is where shit starts to get real fuzzy. I make a drunken phone call to my ex, bitch out a co-worker in front of my boss, and wander off alone.
So, I wander around looking for my car and calling who knows who telling them how lost I am and somehow stumble upon my car and take off. Things seem to be going well as I approach a stop sign. All of a sudden some homeless kid comes running out waving his hands and screaming my name. Naturally, I stop paying attention to my driving, roll a stop sign, and get hit by another driver (who also should not have been driving) and the confrontation begins! I get out and we immediately start fist fighting. Full on, hand to hand combat ninja style...wasted! We both end up with minor injuries, scrapes and bruises, and both decide we are too tired to keep fighting, look at each other and say "No hard feeling?" Agreed...and he drove off. I stood by the scene for a bit and talked to the kid who I realized was a friend from high school who now lives on the street and appears to be on so much crack and heroin that I could probably get high off the foul stench of his unwashed body. We end up driving around the city, racing fast and furious style, driftin' and shit. I some how ditch the kid, pick up my original accomplice and head to cvs to do the dew, mountain style and drop the hot mess off at her place.
Then I woke up fully clothed without a phone covered in brown rice. Needless to say, I didn't make it to yoga.
Bahahaha!
<3
G
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