Things what have happened in the past twelve hours
This morning, dark and early at 6:00 AM, I found myself sitting in my friend's kitchen, a this point sober, talking to the only other person still awake. It had been an eventful early morning, starting at 12:15 when we wound our way to The Fox and the Fiddle, continuing on with drinking and karaoke, and was finally winding down, following a drunken climax of Dschinghis Khan and a denoument of my friend, his roommate and a third other friend all getting sick sometime between 3:00 and 5:00 in the morning, and us having to tend to them. By now everyone was safely asleep or passed out - it was debatable - except for us, and, the promised places to sleep having never materialized, it seemed that we might simply end up sitting in their kitchen until such a time as the subways resumed running.
Glancing out the window, I noted - with my impressive perception - that is was still dark outside. Continuing on with this theme, I declared "You know, I've been meaning to watch a sunrise for about a month. If I've gotten nothing else out of this terribly late night/early morning, I want to at least be able to declare I watched the sun rise." My kitchen companion (who has expressed a wish for anonymity) agreed that this would be perhaps a good way to pass some of the hours still stretching out ahead of us, and, in the way that very very tired people do, we started to prepare to venture back outside.
"We need some sort of ingenious device to keep the door from locking" I said, feeling clever for remembering that the door locked automatically behind you.
He looked straight at me. "'Ingenious device'? I have two words for you: door stop."
I rolled my eyes and laughed. "And I have two words for you: fuck off."
While wondering if doorstop was one or two words - and also debating if it was now to late to call him on it - we descended the stairs and proceeded to fiddle with the lock. "There should be some way," I said, poking at it, "to make this stay unlocked. Like... moving this switch." I prodded some more, but to no avail. Then my friend took out a dime, shoved it into the bolt, and wedged it open. And then he paused; looked at me; looked at the door.
"Meredith, why didn't we realise we could just... leave the door... open?" He demonstrated by opening the door and leaving it completely open and stationary. "We... we didn't even need a doorstop. We could have just... not closed the door."
We both laughed - how stupid of us. And then we stepped outside, prepared for a sunrise, and lo and behold, we were confronted with...
...
...a wall of houses. Huh.
We stood there, staring across Bathurst. "You know," one of us remarked, "I don't think I've ever been quite so aware of the lack of skyline until this moment."
It was beautifully stupid. Then we just stood there for a while, before walking back inside, through the open door.
The moral of this story is that I slept for an hour in a chair, woke up cold, cursed my friend in his bed with a blanket, and walked back into the kitchen. Then we left for a Tim Hortons, drank tea, and got on the subway.
I am, unsurprisingly, rather tired.
Also: how is it that, despite my having 6 drinks in 2 hours, I held my liquor the best? That's just wrong. I'm supposed to be a lightweight girl!
Glancing out the window, I noted - with my impressive perception - that is was still dark outside. Continuing on with this theme, I declared "You know, I've been meaning to watch a sunrise for about a month. If I've gotten nothing else out of this terribly late night/early morning, I want to at least be able to declare I watched the sun rise." My kitchen companion (who has expressed a wish for anonymity) agreed that this would be perhaps a good way to pass some of the hours still stretching out ahead of us, and, in the way that very very tired people do, we started to prepare to venture back outside.
"We need some sort of ingenious device to keep the door from locking" I said, feeling clever for remembering that the door locked automatically behind you.
He looked straight at me. "'Ingenious device'? I have two words for you: door stop."
I rolled my eyes and laughed. "And I have two words for you: fuck off."
While wondering if doorstop was one or two words - and also debating if it was now to late to call him on it - we descended the stairs and proceeded to fiddle with the lock. "There should be some way," I said, poking at it, "to make this stay unlocked. Like... moving this switch." I prodded some more, but to no avail. Then my friend took out a dime, shoved it into the bolt, and wedged it open. And then he paused; looked at me; looked at the door.
"Meredith, why didn't we realise we could just... leave the door... open?" He demonstrated by opening the door and leaving it completely open and stationary. "We... we didn't even need a doorstop. We could have just... not closed the door."
We both laughed - how stupid of us. And then we stepped outside, prepared for a sunrise, and lo and behold, we were confronted with...
...
...a wall of houses. Huh.
We stood there, staring across Bathurst. "You know," one of us remarked, "I don't think I've ever been quite so aware of the lack of skyline until this moment."
It was beautifully stupid. Then we just stood there for a while, before walking back inside, through the open door.
The moral of this story is that I slept for an hour in a chair, woke up cold, cursed my friend in his bed with a blanket, and walked back into the kitchen. Then we left for a Tim Hortons, drank tea, and got on the subway.
I am, unsurprisingly, rather tired.
Also: how is it that, despite my having 6 drinks in 2 hours, I held my liquor the best? That's just wrong. I'm supposed to be a lightweight girl!