I'm a bad man, coz I don't even miss her

[pablohoneyskank]

So let me describe my Sunday night. I went to this party and had a really stellar time. So stellar in fact that I told my ride to leave without me because I wasn't ready. About an hour later the next people who offered me a ride were leaving and I still wasn't ready, so I told them to go on without me as well. My THIRD opportunity for a ride came up not too much later, and I still wasn't ready to go, but there was a hot girl with them so I decided to go for it. I left with these kids from Tennessee that I had just met, and after their friend had to kick some asshole out of her car because he was setting it on fire, they took me to Buckhead. There was so much drama unfolding with Hot Girl's crying-ass friend and limiting sleeping space that the girl I followed basically went to bed in another room without saying anything. So I decided to leave, since this shit was lame, and was given directions to the nearest Marta station (Brookhaven, btdubs). Wasted drunk, I somehow managed to remember the directions and marched for 45 minutes in boots, in the freezing cold, at 5 in the morning, calling everyone I knew with cars but getting no answer except Everett, who was on his way to work and wouldn't pick me up. I made it to the station, sipped on my peach vodka while I waited on the train. At Five Points, I realized how insanely sore my legs were, curled up in a ball on the ground, got on the next train. Josh was kind enough to walk to the Inman Park Marta station and walk me back to his house, which was the party I'd left in the first place. I got to make out and pass out in his bed. Obviously I should have trusted my instincts and just never left, but I'm glad for the adventure.

Moral of the story: Forever I love Atlanta.