Based on a True Email

To: melsanie

From: thedith

Subject: You Can’t Take it Back

 

so, um, i literally just remembered that this song featured prominently in my friday night.

the same night that saw us still drinking at 6am.  seriously, listen to that song.  then, please try to understand that i was held hostage in my own new apartment, drinking gin and 100% cranberry juice at 4 am, forced to listen to this song on loop, while a tall blond boy named pat — who you could tell thought he was like THE SHIT back in high school, but now he’s totally like jeff spicolli from dazed and confused and works in a bar — dances and sings along to this song.  please keep this in mind when listening to that song. like, of COURSE maybe the most non-nonsensical, most random night of my life would happen the weekend i give up twitter. it was killing me.

it was matt’s birthday, so like 20 of their high school friends descended upon our new apartment. i was at work, so i met up with everyone when they were already out. lots of shenans ensued*, and we ran into pat on the street. we made him drive us back to our new apartment, yadda yadda yadda…forced to listen to that song like 50 times.

*okay, so we were supposed to meet matt at this bar called edinburgh castle, located in the tenderloin (the crack addict/tranny hooker part of the city — no, seriously, that’s true, google it) that’s actually really fun and hipstery. but, when we got there, a fight broke out. it started between 2 guys, then spiraled into like 10 guys, and a full out brawl. the bouncers tried to break it up, but they were tiny little hipsters, so naturally, things got worse not better. seriously, it was like a rat king, rolling around the bar collecting more and more people. anyway, while the rat king brawl was going on, no one new could get in, so we lost matt. the fight really killed the bar’s boner, and people left, and this was a shame because the music was great, the hipsters were dressed to the nines, and it really would have been a fun dance party.

so then we left the bar to find matt. once outside, one of the high school friends whipped out the world’s tiniest pipe, and we smoked pot on the street outside the bar, while the hipster doorman and an old black pimp looked on.  then we found matt, lost him again, then we all scattered and got lost, and caitlin and i found ourselves with her friend mike. after racing down the street to beat last call at a bar, mike bought us 3 pbr’s and 3 shots of whiskey at like 1:50 am (because it was 10 minutes until closing and that was all they had). i couldn’t finish either the whiskey OR the beer, because as soon as like, half the whisky hit, i was the most RETARDED i have been in maybe forever. seriously, i felt drunkness coming out of my EYES, mel. my EYES. then we stumbled out into the night, wondering what to do.

i demanded there MUST be an after hours spot in the city SOMEwhere.  like, can a city just shut down at 2am? and then mike goes:

“oh, i know of 2 places. one is a mexican dance club. no, seriously, like, we’re going to be the only non-mexicans there. and the second, is a place where you just do drugs. but, like, any kind of drug you want. mostly coke, but like, any kind.”

caitlin and i looked at mike. i kind of wanted to go to both, because, c’mon! that’s a really good story right there! luckily, caitlin had a little more sense than me and mike, and she refused both options. instead we found pat and went home, and the rest is bad music history…

oh! the night ends with  caitlin deciding to clean the upstairs apartment at 6am, while i watched her, and we sipped wine. meanwhile, pat lingered around the apartment, thinking he was going to hook up with me or caitlin — instead, we put him to sleep on the couch in the livingroom, and caitlin and i watched parks and recreations in her bed, and i promptly passed out, and woke up the next morning in her bed, weaing her clothes. ta daaaa!!!