I’m sorry that I’m not in any shape to write an insightful blog post today. Last night, I drove over to the House on the Avenue (also known as Nicci’s house, Ilya’s house, Nate’s house and Tom’s house) after work. I broke in through the window because Nicci is up north visiting her mom for a few days. The girl who is subletting Ilya’s room for the month was there, but didn’t seem perturbed that I was breaking through the window of her new house. Maybe it was because she knew and remembered me from her “interview” last month. Remember that somewhat-shady event? Well, the two of us chatted for a few minutes, during which Landen waltzed into the house holding a brand-spanking-new clitoral vibrator that he received as a birthday present from a random stranger at a bar. He left us with the vibrator and returned to his house. A short while after, the new girl left to go to a friend’s. I took the opportunity to start watching It’s Always Sunny In Philadelphia and start drinking the bottle of Jameson that was sitting on the coffee-table in front of me. After my first glass, I switched over to the Discovery Channel’s encore showing of Planet Earth, and moved onto another glass. At some point the new girl returned and went to sleep. By midnight, I was three glasses of and two shots into the whiskey bottle. At that point I decided that, if I returned to my apartment right then and there, I would have had the perfect amount of alcohol to get a good night of sleep. So, I left the house.
After brushing my teeth and crawling into bed, I received a text message from Tom (who was in Chicago) telling me that I should go pick up Nate from the bar. I asked what the fuck he was talking about, and he responded with a message about how he’d received a phone call from a bouncer (?) telling him to pick up his friend because he was in no shape to drive home. I called Nate, and asked if he needed a ride home. He told me to drive to the bar, park down the street and make it look like I’d walked over. Get his car keys, drive a few blocks, and then give him the keys. I asked if he was okay to drive, and he swore he was. He said the bouncer was “trying to make an example” of him. Now, I was a little buzzed while driving a mile down the street to my apartment, so I wasn’t exactly keen on driving into Hollywood at 1am to pick up a friend at a bar who had just been told he couldn’t drive home because he was too drunk. There was something ironic about the situation, but I couldn’t figure out exactly what it was. Nevertheless, I told Nate I’d be there in a few minutes, dressed, and got in my car.
I arrived and Nate was yelling at the bar’s manager about how he wasn’t drunk and he was an asshole or something. Nate, although sounding loud and brash, didn’t appear to be beyond drunk. I walked up to him and asked if he was okay. The manager asked me if I knew Nate, so I said “of course.” He asked me if I was under the influence of alcohol, and I said, “No, I just walked here from down the street.” At that point, he pulled me aside and told me Nate had been there drinking since ten o’clock in the morning and that he was way too drunk to drive home. I told him the guy I’d take Nate’s car back to my house and let him crash there. He gave me the keys, and I pulled Nate’s car around to pick him up. Then we drove fifty yards down the street to my car, and I got out so that Nate could drive himself home. Nate said I was probably more drunk than he was, and I laughed and said that was probably true.
Just to be on the safe side, I decided to drive back to the house instead of my apartment. I wanted to make sure Nate arrived safely, because his death or imprisonment (you know, DUI?) would have weighed heavily on my conscience. Amazingly, he reached the house before I did, and I took the freeway home! I walked into the front door and he was already half-finished with a beer. He offered me a beer, and, well, since I was already over there…I asked if he wanted to take a shot or two of Jameson and play some Wii Mario Kart.
At three o’clock in the morning, with the world spinning rapidly, I crawled into Nicci’s vacant bed. I awoke this morning. Hungover. And then I had to work all day. I hope you can understand my disinterest in trying to think of an original, funny blog post today about something other than why I can’t be original and funny today.
I’ll be back tomorrow with something new.
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