Decadence and Depravity on New Years Eve (or a lack there of)

Jan 06, 2006 17:41

"Life just never got weird enough for me..." HST

Strangely, I'm currently agreeing with Thompson on this. The more I think about it, the more boring and sedate and uninteresting my life is. But I'm not here to bore you, actually, "I'm here to talk about the draft..." (Arlo Guthrie), wait, no I'm not...

Lets talk New Year's Eve...

What a fucking debacle that was. Ok, here's the story, in as gonzo a fashion I can manage:

I was a Saturday afternoon, somewhat cloudy, somewhat sunny, as I remember, it was pretty warm for New Years in Cincinnati. Joe, a very close friend from my first collegic life, called to inform me that my roommate from that time in my life, and still a good friend, Benjimon had accepted a job in Kansas City, MO (or Oklahoma, as I kept referring to it as, but that's another story). So we had been invited to Ben's place to spend New Years with him in Lexington, his current city of residence (which as far as I know, is not in Oklahoma). So I convinced my little woman that this was an important adventure and that it was imperative that I go, and pleaded with her to join Joe and I for what was sure to be a fantastic journey to the heart of the American Colligic dream: not one but 2 raging college parties on New Years. Nice porn.

With our major task for the day complete, Mel and I each packed small bags and headed for Joe's place, as far as my recollection brings me to, this was a rather uneventful trip. Once at Joe's we packed into his car, it being far more comfortable and less noisy than mine to drive, and headed out. At this time I feel it necessary that I list all of the items that Joe packed, as it was an extensive list: a toothbrush. Very strange. No clothes, no change of boxers, but a toothbrush...

We headed out, I drove, despite taking Joe's car, as he hates to drive and I actually love the feeling of being in control of an automobile, especially one that is not mine. The road trip was fun, good people, good conversation, good music from a DJ riding shotgun that had a more eclectic taste in music than any I could ever hope for. We laughed and joked and the whole Oklahoma joke came about. You see, as car as I'm concerned, or so it may seem from things I've said in the past few weeks, the United States, west of the Mississippi River is comprised of 4 states: California, Washington, Las Vegas and Oklahoma. Oklahoma being any territory that did not fall in the bounds of the others. For example: Kansas City, I stated, was in Oklahoma. You understand.

As we approached Ben's home, things started going down hill, very much toward the shitter. First, we stop for chow, Texas Roadhouse seemed a good choice, but they had almost a 2 hour wait, so we proceeded on to the next choice. Chipotle was next on the list, but as they were closing up and non in our party felt like being pricks, we allowed them to close and we went to the next restaurant we saw: O'Chucks. We walk in, hear that it is a twenty minute wait, and walk directly to the bar. We find a good seat in the bar section and have the worst waitress in the history of food service. Or maybe not, maybe just a cruel and usually tormented blond who hates woman. We place our drink orders and she fails to bring Melissa's drink, ok, bad but we'll let it slide. Then, we order food, and once again Melissa is the one left in the cold as Bitch, our ditzy blond for the evening, forgot Mel's meal. Very disappointing.

After finally getting all of our party's food and eating, we head to the liquor store, quite possibly one of my favorite places, not necessarily this particular liquor store, but any liquor store. After purchasing one bottle of good booze apiece, we head for Benji's. This is where the American Colligic Dream was broke, busted, shattered, stomped upon and faunally completely destroyed. We arrive, all good on the western front, and proceed to drink w/ Ben. His girlfriend, who is well underage, volunteered to be our designated driver, very good. After about 4 minutes of savoring my very strong Jim Beam and 7, we are told that we must leave to get to the first party. Oh yes, this was looking to be much fun. I put the remainder of my drink, along with the remainder of Mel's in the fridge and prepare for a night of total decadence.

After more driving (or riding in our cases) we arrive at a very nice house somewhere in Lexington's upper echelon district. Going inside, we find that no guest have arrived before us, merely the hostess and a spread of food that would challenge a buffet. Very Strange. But there were not booze laid out. What is a college party, especially a college party for New years Eve, with not booze? Puzzling, disturbing, somewhat disgraceful. Having yet to be drunk this evening, Joe and I, detested by the situation, stepped outside to indulge in the only vice we had available: tobacco. After taking only three puffs from a fine cheap cigar, I was interrupted by Ben's girlfriend, who was starting to act like a blond bitch, announced that it was time to leave, we must make it to the next party. Rat basturd! I was forced to extinguish my smoke and pile once again into the deep blue Cheap Cherokee that we were traveling in.

Any high hopes we held for the next party were promptly squashed when we walked into an empty apartment. Not empty as in no guest, empty as in NO PERSONS. Period.

The hosts and other guest started to arrive, but once again, no decent booze were readily available, so our sober state was prolong, as a group of underclass college students proceeded to pile into one small bedroom to play board games. Very, very disappointing. Joe and I proceeded to smoke and the three of us contemplated the many ways in which this trip was far from the affirmation of the American Collegic Dream that we had envisioned for the night. My personal thoughts drifted to the many ways in which I could kill my former roommate for ruining what was supposed to be a great New Years Eve, back in Cincinnati, with booze and a TV and possibly even good sex. His death became my primary thought.

To make matters even worse, our underage DD was walking around the party with a drink in her hand!! Becoming very infuriated, I explained to my former roommate that this was highly unacceptable and that I refused to ride with an underage driver who had, as far as we could count, two drinks in less than an hour and a half. At first he had the gull to argue with me, but I fought hard for my point and chastised him for even considering letting her drive. Finally after some bad noise he worked the keys out of her blatantly bitchy hands and turned them over to me (remember, I haven't had a drink since like 9:15 and this was now after midnight).

On the drive home, I further contemplated ripping Benji's head off and shitting down his decapitated neck, but thought better of it. After arriving at his house, we tried to salvage the night with the bottles of fine booze that we had purchased earlier, but to no avail, as we were already irate and very much on the tired side. Shortly, we departed for bed.

Early the next morning, we blasted out of his ritzy neighborhood like bats out of hell and headed for home. I hope I soon forget this God-forsaken night. Rat-Basturd scum. I couldn't believe he had sandbagged us like that. We'd be done on all fronts. Our New Year's wasted, totally fucked. I'll say it now, and I mean it, Goddamnit, I'm never traveling to Oklahoma to see that fucking swine!
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