civil HO-cedure

last night was one of those nights that brought me back to undergrad. it began innocently enough. a wine and champagne party at my friend C's, for her birthday. ordervs were served. it was a black and white theme, so i broke out my finest black sweater with cigarette burns in it, shampooed my beard, picked up some wine, and i was off.

got to the party and i said to the cabbie, you holmes, smell ya later. actually i walked. in the rain. but that was soon forgotten as the corks were removed, and the wine was flowing. if you know anything about law school, you know much of the conversation revolved around talking about professors and other classmates. who did or said what, who's dating who, etc. several hours and many bottles of wine later, we headed out to the bars. who knew this would only be the beginning of our night.

first we went to bar B. this is the unofficial law school bar in our town. when you walk in, you inhale mass amounts of both arrogance and secondhand smoke. some good looking undergrads walk by. things are beginning to warm up. several girls are met with random introductions. a few pitchers and meaningless conversations later, and we're ready to move on.

bar G. this is actually my first time in bar G, as it's usually last on our circuit, and we never really get past bar B or bar F (still to come) by 2am. it's a much more chill scene, with more tables and booths, and much less milling around. loud and less smoky, A and i begin.

"hey, look at her," A says.

"not bad. i'll be your wingman if you want."

"yeah, let's go."

we head over to townie 1 and out of town visitor. the general intros are procured, and meaningless babble begins. A is doing well with t1, but her friend is giving me trouble. she didnt want to talk about anything. i wonder if it would've made a difference if she knew i was only helping A out, and wasnt actually trying to hit on her. either way, friend T steps in and relieves me for a little. more hanging out and bullshitting with the birthday girl and the others.

130 rolls around. some people want to go over to bar F for some last drinks and maybe to dance a bit. normally i'd give this idea a filthy look, but i'd had a ton of wine and a good amount of beer, so i said hell yeah, let's do it. we ask t1 and out of town visitor if they want to come. before they can answer i grab t1's hand and lead her out the door. lame ass visitor has no choice but to follow. honestly, what's she going to do, she has nowhere else to go (which reminds me of a joke: what's the best part about dating a homeless woman? you can drop her off wherever you want).
on to bar F. by this point everyone's had too much. as soon as we get there t1 spots someone she knows and goes over to talk. with only 30mins left, A and i are like, well f that. he already got her number anyway, so up towards the dancefloor where the rest of our friends are. on the way, we pass a girl wearing a camelflouge baseball cap. instinctively, i stop her.

"hi, my name is Oscar, and i'm from mississippi and this is my friend A from georgia. are you supposed to be a huntress or something?"

now this might need a little explaining. back at bar B, we saw lots of undergrads in halloween costumes. why, we couldnt figure out since halloween is still over a week away. i thought these damn liberal arts kids were supposed to be smart or something? maybe just rich and spoiled, i dont know. anyway, i evidently assumed her hat was a costume, and figured it would be more pc to call her a huntress than a hunter. what did it get me? the look of death, then she just walked away. we lauged it off, cuz shit, it was hilarious. we laughed a lot.

up on the dancefloor now. "this is A, from georgia"

"OH MY GOD, GEORGIA'S MY FAVORITE STATE!!!!"

1. who has a favorite state?
2. even if 1, who picks georgia????

last call hits, and we make our way back thru the bar. we go back to C's house, talk a bit about the night, then everyone parts ways around 3.


last night also made me feel like i was still in undergrad today. massively hungover, tired, and worthless. but that wasnt enough to stop some lady who was at least in her 40s to hit on me at the meat counter at the supermarket. she told me my roast beef looked delicious.