Creepin Solo

Just when you were beginning to miss me, yeah? I was actually planning to write my next story upon my vaporizer's arrival, but yestaday I did some kinda awesome shit. So I gets outta class at about 12:20, pwned by this awful Thai quiz, still got a bit of residual drunkeness in me from the previous night. Sometimes this is a bad nasty thing, but sometimes too, is it a mindset of boldness, and if you're lucky, spontaneous if not bad decision making. Look, I don't judge as far as that goes, because while I scoff at other people's lifestyles, they'd surely do the same to mine. So I get offa class like I was sayin, and I go to the bank to deposit my paycheck, like yadadaimean? EZ money, but instead of turning left at the ave and heading north to my house like any sound-headed human should do, I decide rather to hit up Earl's. Bingo Bango Bongo, baby, their long islands are indeed all they're cracked up to be, and two of them got me in the zone. And by zone I mean drunk as shit. And by drunk as shit, I mean ready to make awesome heads up decisions. I had started out sitting at about the middle of the bar, right? Solo, Carhartt jacket on, backpack on, no one else in the place except for a guy named Roy, and the bartender Joe. So Joe's a guy with one of those sorta buzz cut up to the crown hair, but form there he's got it grown out into a pony tail, with a fat chunk of beard growing out of the goatee area. Little over weight, at first glance probably not the type one would make friends with. So we exchange that sorta awkward/polite small talk, me feeling more and more like an alcoholic, but as I'm about finishing with my first drink I'm all loose, and decide to go over and talk to Roy. By that point some other dude is sitting by him, and I actually talk to him a little while, semi interesting. Anyway, Roy had just enjoyed a cup o noddles, beef flavored. Roy looks like an Ave Rat, you would not be able to distinguish the man from an Ave Rat. He also had a QFC chocolate cake, which he shared with me. Oh, also we talked about Ave Rats, and he was going on about why they like to loiter outside Rite Aid, strange. That slice o cake was the only thing I'd eaten all day. Good man. So we blah blah for a bit, he tells me he lives in downtown in fact, in a studio apartment. Keep in mind he's wearing a dirty jacket with dirty, torn camo pants, rather thick, unkept beard. And he starts rolling a cigarette. "Can I have one of those?" I says. And of course he obliges. Around this same time my friend Duffy gives me a call. Freakish awesome chance if you ask me. "Whatcha doin?" he says. "Drinking my self stupid at Earl's," I says (I found out right quick how taboo the term "blcked out" is over there by the way). So he actually arrives whilst Roy and I are smoking 'and rolled cancer sticks, right? Duffy comes outside, and we axchange 'ellos, and then something quite weird occurred. This is in the alley behind Earl's. We watch an Asian man bring box after box of beer out to the dumpster. "He's not throwing that away? Is he?" I ask anyone who's listening. And then, like hungry malnourished canines, we start barking and gnashing our teeth. Just kidding, but I was all like, "Duffy pull your car around, we're taking this." So like something right out of the Italian Job, he whips his Volkswagon down da alleyway, and we're just tossing box after box, probably six or seven, and even one box of Mike's Hard Lemonade. You know, for the ladies. I ended up leaving my unfinished drink at the bar, and peaced the fuck out of there. I left a box of Mike's red lemonade for Roy. Se we get back to my house, at this point, I'm just about completely retarded, and having difficulty constructing sentences, but I like to think all the roommates were hella impressed by the sweet come up. And like a bunch of douchebagz, we did have a round of Mike's. They're like sodas. Anyway, like a some sort of newb, I thought it was a good idea to run over to our (hot) neighbors house, and tell them we're having a party that night at our house precisely because we got all dis free beerz. I think her name was Mallory, and I like to think she was impressed, breath-taken, whatever you like to call it. Well, obviously she wasn't, and instead I ended up looking like a huge fag. That's fine, I come back, and say to Jaeger, "let's get high." So we head across the alley to our other neighb'z house to vaporize some ganja-buddha into our lungs. Right now it's about 4:20, and for some stupid reason I think the sun should be gone. That's what happens when you start drinking just after noon. Anyway, from then till dusk is quite blurry and hard to remember, but the next thing I know of was going to the bar. Duffy had lost his debit card the previous night, and I told him I'd ask A Pizza Mart if he'd left it there. No he hadn't, but there were two very attractive girls sitting at the bar getting hit on by two dudes way too old. Fuckit, I pullz up a stool and order a G & T. That's a gin and tonic for you kidz who are still total nubz. This girl I was "mackin on" is a quarter Japanese, a quarter Chinese, and half white. Killer Kombo. She was the type of girl that I would consider being shy of, but then realize she's way too hot not to talk to, whether I stutter or what not. (Of course I didn't stutter, I had nothing but silk coming out o my mouth) Turned out the one guy to my right was married. No threat there. And the guy to the Asian girls's friend's left was a sonuvabitch regular I'd recognized from the last night I'd been there. I don't care how often it happens, but I think it'll always surprise me when a young woman, especially a beautiful one, gives me their time of day. It's like, woah woah woah, wait, is she liking this, is she actually feelin me right now? No shit, asshole, don't fuck it up. I fucked it up. Forgot their names, or if I even learned them, didn't get any numbers (thought it was lacking in class to ask), and they left on the note that hopefully maybe we'd run into each other another time. Lame. Now I get to do the whole comparing of notes with those other two assholes, blah blah, yeah they were mad pretty. Yeah they were mad cool. No I can't believe such awesome beauties existed much less decided to talk to me. The married dude did share good council, however, and said I played well, and they'd be back, whatever. I noticed a cougar who I'd talked to another night. This cougar was not hot. I found her interesting simply because she was an older person, and there. Whatever, she had cigarettes too. Menthols, blegh. Nasty habit anyway... Just found out this very moment that my debit card's not in my wallet...

Cheers,
Cyrus