Grand Theft Jacob
A strange and surreal Sunday during which events converged to bring me success and free swag...
Inaugurated the Powell's Bowling Team that night. Bowled decently, not that great. As I get drunker my score goes up, then dips dramatically. Jimmy ripped the crotch out of his pants on the fifth frame. He bowls with his entire body, I've never seen anything like it. Launches the ball down the lane. He shoots well. His roommate brought him a change of pants. We all agreed the worst part about it was having to buy a new pair.
Went because Ford was invited by a cute girl who basically paid no attention to him while we were there. Her and some fellow bartenders, we all agreed it was best to meet bartenders outside of a bar. As the night came to a close he summoned his courage and approached her. We were invited for drinks.
The bartender bought us all shots at the Slammer. A sci fi movie came on the TV. We were trying to guess what it was and I called out The Chronicles of Riddick, a movie I've never seen, and I was right on. Then we made our way to My Father's Place, very drunk now, where I was accosted by a drunk girl with a boyfriend, lot's of shoulder squeezes and the like. Flattered, but a little intimadated. I don't truck with girl's who have boyfriends.
Was distracted by a promising call from a girl I've been seeing. Decided to walk and meet her. Before leaving I placed the wrapper from a cigarette package on the bar. Outside, on the phone, I was approached by a man from inside.
-Were you just in the bar?
-Um...yeah. (I'm on the phone here.)
-My Father's Place?
-Yes.
-Did you put...trash?...on the bar?...in front of me and my girlfriend?
-Uh...yeah. I couldn't find a trash can so I put it on the bar.
Long pause as he stares at me.
-Okay.
Walks back inside. It dawned on me that he was sort of looking for a fight. But that was averted, so I started to her house.
On the way I pass another bar and a guy walks out. -How's it going? I ask. He tells me the bar is closing. -Too bad, I've never been. -Well come on in! he says. I follow him in, poke around, then notice a gathering of bottles by the door. I scope them out, choose one, wait til no one is looking, then stash it in my coat and walk outside.
Turned out to be a bottle of dessert wine, but I feel pretty cool about it anyway. Walking further down the street I notice a girl smoking in a parking lot and decide to tell her my story. I walk up to her.
-Hey how's it going? I want to tell you a story.
-Okay...so, who are you?
-Oh, I'm Jacob.
I tell her how I procured the wine and she gives me a few hits of pot. She likes the story and invites me into the donut shop where she works. I tell the cook there the story and he takes a few slugs of the wine. She thanks me for the story and gives me a box of donuts.
Now I'm laden with free goods, laughing my drunken head off. I give a homeless guy collecting cans a donut and have to wait a half hour at the girl's house for her to get back.
I'll spare you the details but later that night I had to go to 7-11. I walk there in the bitter cold, hurrying. Once there, I grab what I need off the shelf, then notice that there's no one at the counter, no one to be seen. And so I walk out of the store with what I have, heading back to the apartment.
At this point I'm thinking, this is my moment. Should I steal a car, go by a bank and see if the door's unlocked? What is happening?
I opted to go to bed. It was late.
The whole time I was marveling at the lunacy of it all. At what point do you stop living and start writing about it? I've been telling this story all week though, and certainly didn't want to deny all of you the opportunity to hear about it.
Inaugurated the Powell's Bowling Team that night. Bowled decently, not that great. As I get drunker my score goes up, then dips dramatically. Jimmy ripped the crotch out of his pants on the fifth frame. He bowls with his entire body, I've never seen anything like it. Launches the ball down the lane. He shoots well. His roommate brought him a change of pants. We all agreed the worst part about it was having to buy a new pair.
Went because Ford was invited by a cute girl who basically paid no attention to him while we were there. Her and some fellow bartenders, we all agreed it was best to meet bartenders outside of a bar. As the night came to a close he summoned his courage and approached her. We were invited for drinks.
The bartender bought us all shots at the Slammer. A sci fi movie came on the TV. We were trying to guess what it was and I called out The Chronicles of Riddick, a movie I've never seen, and I was right on. Then we made our way to My Father's Place, very drunk now, where I was accosted by a drunk girl with a boyfriend, lot's of shoulder squeezes and the like. Flattered, but a little intimadated. I don't truck with girl's who have boyfriends.
Was distracted by a promising call from a girl I've been seeing. Decided to walk and meet her. Before leaving I placed the wrapper from a cigarette package on the bar. Outside, on the phone, I was approached by a man from inside.
-Were you just in the bar?
-Um...yeah. (I'm on the phone here.)
-My Father's Place?
-Yes.
-Did you put...trash?...on the bar?...in front of me and my girlfriend?
-Uh...yeah. I couldn't find a trash can so I put it on the bar.
Long pause as he stares at me.
-Okay.
Walks back inside. It dawned on me that he was sort of looking for a fight. But that was averted, so I started to her house.
On the way I pass another bar and a guy walks out. -How's it going? I ask. He tells me the bar is closing. -Too bad, I've never been. -Well come on in! he says. I follow him in, poke around, then notice a gathering of bottles by the door. I scope them out, choose one, wait til no one is looking, then stash it in my coat and walk outside.
Turned out to be a bottle of dessert wine, but I feel pretty cool about it anyway. Walking further down the street I notice a girl smoking in a parking lot and decide to tell her my story. I walk up to her.
-Hey how's it going? I want to tell you a story.
-Okay...so, who are you?
-Oh, I'm Jacob.
I tell her how I procured the wine and she gives me a few hits of pot. She likes the story and invites me into the donut shop where she works. I tell the cook there the story and he takes a few slugs of the wine. She thanks me for the story and gives me a box of donuts.
Now I'm laden with free goods, laughing my drunken head off. I give a homeless guy collecting cans a donut and have to wait a half hour at the girl's house for her to get back.
I'll spare you the details but later that night I had to go to 7-11. I walk there in the bitter cold, hurrying. Once there, I grab what I need off the shelf, then notice that there's no one at the counter, no one to be seen. And so I walk out of the store with what I have, heading back to the apartment.
At this point I'm thinking, this is my moment. Should I steal a car, go by a bank and see if the door's unlocked? What is happening?
I opted to go to bed. It was late.
The whole time I was marveling at the lunacy of it all. At what point do you stop living and start writing about it? I've been telling this story all week though, and certainly didn't want to deny all of you the opportunity to hear about it.