Dog Hair In The Shot Glass

For the time being- I'm barely here.
I'm barely awake that is.

I REALLY want to be able to just walk over to my bed and pass out... but I can't. It's 12:06 PM right now. I'm running on mental fumes.

I think I'm here to explain last night or everything that's coming to me at least.

Around 7 yesterday evening, I got a call from Monica asking if I wanted to hang out with her and Dustin (Dustin is pretty much a legend around the Newton Falls area, along with Fro and a few others). I of course agreed, and she said she'd give me a call after she got out of work at 10 or so.

Around 10:15 she called and said she'd be over shortly to get me, she just wanted to change and stuff. Five minutes after that phone call, as I'm brushing my teeth- I get a phone call from George. He answers in his casual fashion "Hey dude what's up?" as if I called him. We talk for a minute or so and he tells me he's coming to hang with us tonight, which got me even further psyched up.

Monica comes and gets me about ten minutes later. We sit outside of George's for ten minutes, waiting for his ass to finish doing whatever the fuck he was doing (though he likes to claim he was finishing to listen to a TMV song, bullshit). After he get him, we go searching for Dustin. He's living on E. River- which is a lengthy country road that stretches a nice bit out of town. After Dustin is found, it is wondered aloud of what we will be doing... which no one bothered to decide. We decide on Perkins, even though Dustin had been there like and hour before.

We sit around Perkins catching up, joking, talking, hanging out... before we decide to just consume some alcohol.

We head back to Dustin's so he can grab his ID and such. We pick up some Dr. Pepper and Southern Comfort. We head to Monica's, put on some music and drink. After the bottle of SoCo starts to die- it becomes the AIM to drink more. Everyone agrees on a case of Heineken. Monica and Dustin head out for that while George and I sit back at Monica's.

While George and I are just sitting there, he just randomly drops a bombshell- he got a fucking iPhone. He was just talking to me and he goes "Oh fuck- you know what I just totally forgot about?" and he pulls it out. How can you not mention that you just got an iPhone earlier that day... what a terrible, terrible hipster.

After about five minutes, George and I decide to finish off that SoCo. We did two double-shots with it, while he picked two extremely long hairs out of his glass. They didn't even look human, they were gray and shit. Who knows. After that one, he and I did another half shot to kill out the bottle.

Around ten or twenty minutes later, Dustin and Monica show up empty-handed. It's past the legal time to sell alcohol. SO- George mentions that his sister owns a bar right down the street, which Dustin goes to and purchases two 12 packs. We break out the Heineken and just hang around. I don't even finish my first beer, because it isn't sitting all that well on my stomach. I decide that I'm done and I just hang out. Fro calls me back at 2:30 or so and we all (drunkenly) yell at him for a few minutes via speakerphone about how he needs to quit his job so he can hang out more.

Around 3:30, we all kinda start to crash over various spots in Monica's apartment. I have to leave early in the morning, so I set my alarm for 6:00AM. I barely manage to sleep an hour, when I hear my phone going off. I get up, tell Monica I'll walk- and that she doesn't have to drive me, and then I bail.

I walk out, and it feels amazing. It feels like 65 and there's still a slight mist coming down from all the rain over the past day or so. I slip as I walk out the door, and land on my ass pretty hard. I get up and keep walking. As I approach the underpass, the rain just starts coming down in sheets. I have a nice walk ahead of me, so I just enjoy the rain.

I take my time on the walk and just enjoy everything. I enjoy the night I just had. I enjoy the 45 minutes of sleep I got. I enjoy going home to do my bum schoolwork. I enjoy the air.

Eventually, I make it home. I sit on the porch for a while- soaked and shivering, before I decide to go inside.

I change and sit around a while, before my grandfather comes in and yells at me for never coming home. I apologize, tell him it'll never happen again- and go back to my business. You could tell he didn't really care, he was only doing it because my grandmother was bitching, and he could probably smell the alcohol on my breath... but he didn't say anything, nor did he say anything to my grandmother about it.

Personally... I really dug that night. It wasn't the funnest night, but it was just a night of solidarity. Something I've forgot about.

Cheers!

- Josh.