Some nights you just know aren’t going to turn out well. When timmah set my first drink of the night ablaze, and I downed a shot of 151 in a pint of beer, I knew that last night was going to be one of those nights.
We head up to my room, drain a 6 pack in 30 minutes and spin some beats. Tim has been at my house for under an hour and the neighbors are already coming over threatening police action if we don’t turn the music down. its called foreshadowing… you english fucks know all about it.
so i fill the trusted metal sidearm up with the captain’s finest and we roll out side by side. we hit the first red light and its on. as the ack-ur-ah squeels into second gear i’m already seeing that german engineered turd in the rear view. scientist 1, timmah 0. 4 or 5 burnout races later we arrive at stoddards brewery in sunnyvale. Its scientist, timmah, fudge, and random guy. we go next store to tao taos for the best mai-tais ever. 2 more random bars for drinks and random guy is already scared of the scientist and goes home. some people just can’t hang. fuck them.
we get the car situation under control and roll into the wine bar next to agenda. 6 glasses of wine later, and i suggest absinthe at scotts. we are verschnicked.
as we are walking back i notice a slight gap in the service exit doors to cabana. frenchy got on a girl name anna in there… but alas anna, he couldn’t stand ya. we’re in. NO ONE ELSE IS. there are seriously 2 bar tenders, $50,000 in lighting equiptment, a 70s style lit dance floor and us. i run to the middle of the dancefloor and impress all with my scientifical moves. holla back. 2 ladies walk in. we need drinks. 3 more mai-tais, a few titties grabbed, a few laughs, and we’re out.
car situation is under control and we jump in the ack-ur-ah. we roll up in the parking garage outside scotts. as has become tradition, we take a yellow pole thingy. I park, only to see timmah jump out of the ack weilding said pole, and smashing the fire extinguisher box’s glass. he then does a counter strike drop weapon maneuver with the yellow pole and picks up the extinguisher with full ammo. he sprays me. he sprays fudge. he sprays and sprays and sprays. I seriously could not breath and ran down the ramp. it was completely white walled with timmah ignorance. then it happens. “ATTENTION… THE PARKING GARAGE IS ON FIRE. DO NOT USE THE ELEVATORS. ATTENTION…”. oh. christ. I already hear sirens and such approaching. I run into scotts parking garage, loop around and do the scientist sidestep up the stairs and over the gate. I get in his house just as cops are showing up across the street. fucking tim. a minute later tim and fudge call on the other side of 101 san fernando. i get them, and we roll into frenchys hoping to lure some absinthe from his tight grasp. we are unsuccessful. again, time to roll out.
we get back in the ack-ur-ah (?!?!?!) and drive to the other parking garage by spaghetti factory. we walk to the brit… 10 drinks and 10 failed hookups later, we’re out again. i see someone in the phonebooth outside the brit and SOMEHOW i end up in the phone booth with him. timmah is leaning on the door holding us in. the man was not just any man. he was a brit bouncer not pleased with tim’s antics. i believe i heard “i am going to kill that mother fucker” more than once. we get out, and bouncer says something and timmah comes back with the wittiest reply ever. we all yell “BURRRRRRRRRRRRRRN”. this reply was so witty, in fact, that none of us can remember what was said. i do remember the response, however: “banned”. fuck you brit.
we roll into char broiled burger and timmah offers the waitress $100 to cook our burgers topless. she accepts and… ok, she didn’t. more drinking?! OK!
we head into mission, hot chicks everwhere… very strange. i go in the back and some guy buys me drinks. the shot was a scooby snack and i enjoyed it profusely. i get tim the “i’m the driver” coke special and empty the flask into it. I start getting desperate and hitting on fat chicks, who are LOVING me. I then call them fat and we leave.
I wake up in my bedroom naked from the waist down and head into work to write this story.
good times. great oldies. its my life.