boston

friday night dominique and i went into boston and visited our friend lauren from college. we got there a little after dinner, and immediately opened the vodka and made some strong screwdrivers. meanwhile, lauren ate dinner and made an irish coffee. i dont know how, it was about 145 degrees in her apartment. then kenny showed up. by then, we had a nice buzz going from the drinks. soon after we headed down to the bar.

the bar was only a few blocks away, and we immediately got a round of beers. repeat several times an hour for many hours. then, the ladies wanted to dance. who were kenny, wyatt, and i to refuse? wyatt held out for a bit, but kenny and i smashed any inhibitions like they were princess di. i shook my ass like only a white boy can. my dancing included, but was not limited to, the debbie dance:


after several hours of dancing and holding back vomit as we watched some fat girls grind on ugly guys, we decided it was time to head back to lauren's apartment. we managed to look surprisingly put together at the end of the night for how drunk we actually were:


the walk back was only like 10 minutes or so (i think) but we got pizza first. we made small talk with the pizza guy and possibly insulted his friend who was dj-ing at the bar we were at that night. all in good fun. on the walk back we decided we needed to call our friends debbie and satan (aka meredith). i got thru to debbie's line first, but it just rang for like an hour before getting to her voicemail. it went directly there for dominique and lauren. in the midst of telling debbie that she's unacceptable, all i can hear is "fuck voicemail!" it later turns out that debbie was out at a party...it was either a vibrator party or highlighter party. probably the former.

after verbally abusing debbie, we turned to satan. dominique and lauren left messages, but i didnt have her number in my phone. so dominique gave me her number from her phone, sort of. see, the number was there, but neither of us could see straight enough. so she just read off the number, and i dialed it. or perhaps i should say "a number." now, the voicemail didnt sound like meredith, but i figured a message was in order anyway.

"HEY SATAN, YOU BETTER NOT BE STEALING GREG'S SOUL! ummm, i dont think this is satan. but if this is satan, do not steal greg's soul. if this is not meredith, i'm so sorry, but you see our friend meredith, she steals souls. have a good memorial day, thanks."

we got back to the apartment, hung out for a bit, then finally went to bed. in the morning i had the hangover i probably deserved. it was a good night.