(no subject)
she gave me her info and i agreed to call her later. i went home, ate and called up a friend. i needed a wingman. more specifically, i needed a wingman with a knife. mike has a knife. so mike and i drive up into the hills to this party house, this rich fancy party house. the girl, lauren, meets us at the long twisting driveway and leads us in. she reeks of booze. we enter the home and the party is awkwardly small. five people small. it's not a party at all, it's a gathering. a gathering of people who know each other.
mike and i are introduced to the people, one of whom is actually Errol Flynn’s son. he's about 40 years old and like his father, an asshole. he was nice enough in the beginning, we had a good chat about film (celluloid. i've not grown so pretentious that i only call movies "films"), and travel but soon he decided that i was a threat, a big 'ol cock block since i was picked up off the street by this pretty girl for her amusement. so i left them be (she was drunk and unable to sit still) and mingled with the others. two of them managed to stop sucking face and talk briefly about movie crap, then they disappeared for the night. so now all that was left was a quiet, pretty girl in a 'coonskin hat and some loud drunk dude who was simply known as "colonial guy". colonial guy, as i found out later, was found on the streets much like i was but months ago. he was, as i said, loud and really liked sublime and dungeons and dragons. which is fine but when you're the only one at a party who really likes sublime and d&d, it isn't a good idea to keep talking about it when no one shows any interest. but there he was continually drinkin' and yappin'. so mike and i turned our attention to the pretty 'coonskin cap girl who had just flown in from alaska and turned out to be very cool. she's a history major with a soft spot for movies pre1950. she even laughed at my bad jokes.
her: do you like jimmy stewart?
me: no, i prefer james stewart.
so we talked, she mike and i, occasionally stopping to hear colonial guy out (he's a handyman by the way). things were going well until the sirens came.
within half a second cops came busting through the doors yelling, guns a blazin'. we all had to drop to the floor while the house was searched and flynn's kid was apprehended.
no, no, not really. nothing that interesting happened that night. in fact the night pretty much ended there. i had to work at six in the morning and it was already two am. so we said our good byes ('coonskin cap girl, named Masie, actually goes to school in san francisco which is disappointing) and drunk lauren, who emerged from a room with flynn's kid, kept hugging me and proposed that we hang out again. i don't know that i will but i definitely don’t regret going to the party. mike and i left feeling good about the night, happy we meet some interesting people and relieved that we didn’t have to shank anyone.
the end.
p.s. i changed tense like six times. deal with it.
mike and i are introduced to the people, one of whom is actually Errol Flynn’s son. he's about 40 years old and like his father, an asshole. he was nice enough in the beginning, we had a good chat about film (celluloid. i've not grown so pretentious that i only call movies "films"), and travel but soon he decided that i was a threat, a big 'ol cock block since i was picked up off the street by this pretty girl for her amusement. so i left them be (she was drunk and unable to sit still) and mingled with the others. two of them managed to stop sucking face and talk briefly about movie crap, then they disappeared for the night. so now all that was left was a quiet, pretty girl in a 'coonskin hat and some loud drunk dude who was simply known as "colonial guy". colonial guy, as i found out later, was found on the streets much like i was but months ago. he was, as i said, loud and really liked sublime and dungeons and dragons. which is fine but when you're the only one at a party who really likes sublime and d&d, it isn't a good idea to keep talking about it when no one shows any interest. but there he was continually drinkin' and yappin'. so mike and i turned our attention to the pretty 'coonskin cap girl who had just flown in from alaska and turned out to be very cool. she's a history major with a soft spot for movies pre1950. she even laughed at my bad jokes.
her: do you like jimmy stewart?
me: no, i prefer james stewart.
so we talked, she mike and i, occasionally stopping to hear colonial guy out (he's a handyman by the way). things were going well until the sirens came.
within half a second cops came busting through the doors yelling, guns a blazin'. we all had to drop to the floor while the house was searched and flynn's kid was apprehended.
no, no, not really. nothing that interesting happened that night. in fact the night pretty much ended there. i had to work at six in the morning and it was already two am. so we said our good byes ('coonskin cap girl, named Masie, actually goes to school in san francisco which is disappointing) and drunk lauren, who emerged from a room with flynn's kid, kept hugging me and proposed that we hang out again. i don't know that i will but i definitely don’t regret going to the party. mike and i left feeling good about the night, happy we meet some interesting people and relieved that we didn’t have to shank anyone.
the end.
p.s. i changed tense like six times. deal with it.