This is NOT Over

Saturday Feb 17, 1990 You Deserve A Break, or Broken Ketchup Today

I think I am becoming the kind of person I really don't like.

Megs called. I think she was trying to piss me off. It didn't work and I think that pissed her off. That’s something of an accomplishment because Megs is usually too cool to get pissed off. She told me Danny was at some party back home telling people how I can't handle my liquor.

I told her how I couldn't care less what stories are told about drinking with me as long as I am drinking in said stories, or drinking whilst someone tells me one of these stories or tells me about someone else telling one of these stories. Then I took a drink.

I never understood the importance of "holding one's liquor" I assume that means being able to drink all evening and still act alright or be able to pick some one up, or win an argument or something like that. Drinking with...pizazz, I don't know.

It is not like going out for the evening is some kind of exact science. You go out, you drink, you try not to die. Repeat.

Until you screw up the last part.

Walked to Amnesia's with Shawn and his friend. I assume this is the Goddess Part II. She has some of the same parts as the original, just puffier lips. What does that mean, I have no idea…

Got to the bar super early before the fake line formed at the door. Corey F. was already in there. I knew she was a smart girl. We kissed "hello" and the night went downhill from there.

Shawn and G II were going on about marketing or some such crap. Corey and I were too sober to dance so we talked about who on the Amnesia's staff we would have sex with on a moment's notice. That was a short conversation. Then she looked at me and said, "I've got an idea. You buy the beer and I'll buy the shots."

Works for me.

Or so I thought.

We drank and slipped the DJ extra shots so she'd play Sister Disco over and over while Weirdo Beardo, the local tabla player, would act the fool and dominate the dance floor. The best part is when Pete sings, "And I...I will never let go"

Then Dean (the Weirdo Beardo in question) would throw up his arms, throw back his head and shake the dirt all out of his hair.

Truly amazing.

Who would thought the town's most prolific tabla player was such an unkempt scumbag?

um, anyone who was thinking right I guess

Then, much to my sad surprise, before Corey and I could get drunk enough to playfully paw each other on the dance floor and make fools of ourselves in a less wondrous and ironic fashion as Weirdo Beardo, one of the guys on the Amnesia staff, who Corey said she would go home with if the chance ever came up...

THAT BASTARD CAME UP TO US AND STARTED TALKING TO HER!

dammit

Everything sucked after that. I saw them kiss over by the door to the Ladies' Room. Honestly, I wasn't even jealous or sad about Corey. But when I saw her kiss that fat, dumb bartending fuck, all I could think about was Megs and Note. I thought about him kissing her. Megs, my friend since 2nd grade CCD whose family and mine went to school together, church together, and drank together for 60 or 70 years (and who knows how long before that in the old country), she found and seems to be happy with a guy that is not me. I was bitter at those two sweet people. Note would never try to hurt me or compete over a girl, or at least he never seemed to give a fuck about that kind of thing. And he won, without even trying.

And Megs, she wasn't pretty and she wasn't perfect but in the back of my mind I was sort of sure I loved her and now definitely sure that we'd never be together.

I decided right around then to leave Amnesia's and the night's trouble began.

Oh, right before I decided to leave I was smoking over by the back payphone thinking about calling someone to make some trouble for them. Why should I be the only one with troubles? I felt a bony hand on my shoulder. It was Shawn's friend. She asked if I was upset about Corey kissing the bartender. I said no. She offered me something to take my mind off it.

Apparently her idea of helping was something that makes a guy see stupid shit for eight hours. It was a sweet thought. It didn't help but what do you expect from a second string goddess.

Left the bar and wondered how long I would have before things got goofy. I knew Bill and Mark were hosting some sort of pseudo-erotic movie night at the Honors House so I made my way to that thing. God only knows why and it's boring and stupid even to him.

Made the mistake of stopping at McDonald's in my state before going to see the lame skin flick at the Honor's House. There was a misunderstanding involving the number of ketchup packets I required to truly enjoy my fries. The resolution? I think I slammed my fist down on the desk, squishing a packet and spraying ketchup in the direction of the McDonald's employee who had been patiently listening to my complaints.

Their patience was at an end.

Ran to the Honor's House, dove behind a couch and told my friends I had been chased from the restaurant by McDonald's security.

As I write this, I am not sure if I was actually chased out of the joint, but I guess that makes for a better story.

Or maybe it doesn't. Not even being able to exhibit behavior acceptable in McDonald's is a new low for me. I wasn't interested in finding any new lows this week, yet that is exactly what happened.