This weekend and assorted other updates.
Friday: Not wanting to be insanely bored this weekend, I had made tentative plans with my buddy Mike. He is on Co-Op at Pratt and Whitney, in East Hartford. I met up with him and we went to go find a Co-Op party. (With companies that have more than a couple of Co-Ops, Co-Op parties are frequent. They involve alcohol, college kid treats, and music.... pretty regular). We got the directions and headed on our way, with Carlos with us. (He also works at PW). About 5 mins into our journey Mike informs me that they other people don't know we are coming. Not only that, he doesn't even know these people because he works across the street at the R&D facility.
Wait a second, buddy. They don't know you, or that you are coming... none-the-less expecting your bud from Cuno? "yup, take a right here". Oh well, this will be interesting.
So we find the apartment complex pretty easily. 465 Buckland Hills Drive. Building 22, apt 41. Easy enough? NO.
Building 22 exists. It does. Apt 41 does not. it doesnt. There isnt even a 4th floor in the entire community which exists a total of 35 seperate buildings. not a fourth floor in sight. And if there was 4 floors, I bet they would go like this: 1,2,3,5... just to piss us off.
Next delima... the apt numbers have about 5 numbers to them. WTF? so we went up to building 22. first apt we saw was: 22112. What the hell does that mean? Where is apt 41? Mike informs me that he may not have the right directions, but he has the number of this girl he has never talked to, that works at PW. OOOOOOKKKKKkk.... I give her a call and she doesnt pick up. Imagine my surprise. We wander around for aobut 30 mins until I try to call again. At this point mike, who wants to get drunk very badly is seen wandering around random doors and listening for music and asking if people know where young kids live. When i call again, nicole picks up and askes who the hell is calling her. i play it off like i know her, "Oh, hey nicole, this is eric. mike's friend. Anyways, we were wondering if you had the right directions to the party. we are kinda lost." works like a charm. We were told: the apartment is on the right, look for balloons. Then her cell phone dies. Great. (BTW - building 22, is on the left). We walk down about a quarter of a mile, stopping at every building until we get to this one where we see an american flag with christmas lights around it, and what appear to be flashing police lights from inside. Carlos and I let Mike go up and check it out. We figured: either this is the place, or there is a large black man with leather on about to abduct mike. either way, i had the keys and carlos was happy.
It was the place alright, and we went inside and met a meche from uconn, a teacher from uconn, and a few managial majors from RPI. It was a good time, making jokes with everyone, normal schmoozing. I can def. see a good time in the future with these people.
that was friday... ill save the rest for my next entry.
Wait a second, buddy. They don't know you, or that you are coming... none-the-less expecting your bud from Cuno? "yup, take a right here". Oh well, this will be interesting.
So we find the apartment complex pretty easily. 465 Buckland Hills Drive. Building 22, apt 41. Easy enough? NO.
Building 22 exists. It does. Apt 41 does not. it doesnt. There isnt even a 4th floor in the entire community which exists a total of 35 seperate buildings. not a fourth floor in sight. And if there was 4 floors, I bet they would go like this: 1,2,3,5... just to piss us off.
Next delima... the apt numbers have about 5 numbers to them. WTF? so we went up to building 22. first apt we saw was: 22112. What the hell does that mean? Where is apt 41? Mike informs me that he may not have the right directions, but he has the number of this girl he has never talked to, that works at PW. OOOOOOKKKKKkk.... I give her a call and she doesnt pick up. Imagine my surprise. We wander around for aobut 30 mins until I try to call again. At this point mike, who wants to get drunk very badly is seen wandering around random doors and listening for music and asking if people know where young kids live. When i call again, nicole picks up and askes who the hell is calling her. i play it off like i know her, "Oh, hey nicole, this is eric. mike's friend. Anyways, we were wondering if you had the right directions to the party. we are kinda lost." works like a charm. We were told: the apartment is on the right, look for balloons. Then her cell phone dies. Great. (BTW - building 22, is on the left). We walk down about a quarter of a mile, stopping at every building until we get to this one where we see an american flag with christmas lights around it, and what appear to be flashing police lights from inside. Carlos and I let Mike go up and check it out. We figured: either this is the place, or there is a large black man with leather on about to abduct mike. either way, i had the keys and carlos was happy.
It was the place alright, and we went inside and met a meche from uconn, a teacher from uconn, and a few managial majors from RPI. It was a good time, making jokes with everyone, normal schmoozing. I can def. see a good time in the future with these people.
that was friday... ill save the rest for my next entry.