I’m not exactly sure why I decided to try and keep a running diary of my Friday night this past weekend. The Living Loaded theory carries added weight, though. Dunn is, as you can imagine,
6:08 PM – Just rambled on about Dan Dunn, Swag, and a running diary.
6:09 PM – Wondering if I’m being too in-the-moment. Time to start cleaning up before Swagapalooza. …Swag-a-thon. Moves Like Swagger?
6:11 PM – …Swag & Bake? …Yup, too in-the-moment.
6:52 PM – Get out of shower and start getting dressed. Put on a pair of jeans that were lying on furniture in my bedroom.
6:54 PM – I remember that the last time I wore that pair of jeans was New Year’s Eve. Take jeans back off. Administer “sniff test” on said jeans, and they pass. I put the jeans back on.
7:50 PM – Waiting on Tony, who said he’d be here at 7:30. I haven’t even started drinking yet. I remember there being a couple of Four Lokos in my fridge…
7:52 PM – I crack open a bottle of Michelob Lager instead. From somewhere deep within my body I hear a meek and bedraggled, “Thank you.” Was that my liver?
2:30 AM – Back home. What just happened? There was a cop, and…
And that’s where my recording cuts off. To say things didn’t go as I had planned would be an understatement. I did eventually meet up with Tony, as well as Swag, Mitch Canada, TJ, and Lil Mo. And, while I didn’t black out that night, I have no clue where or when a cop came into the mix. When the 2:30 entry was typed at night’s close, Tony was passing out on my couch and I was sipping a beer on my loveseat as we watched reruns of “Entourage”. If someone in my group met with the law that night, then they’re still sitting in a cell somewhere. (If they can sit…)
It may have occurred to you that these entries were all typed here on my home computer. I tried to keep tabs on my Droid while running tabs at the bars, but came upon the harsh realization that a bar night with friends is not the most convenient time to be typing detailed notes into your phone every few minutes. The following is, word-for-word, what I captured (you’ll notice the lack of a timestamp next to each item; I completely forgot to record that minor detail):
- “[Swag] gone. ‘My roots are not invested in that soil.’ Mo on Lakers/Celtics.
- Wait was I supposed to be recording something? Watching ‘Pound My Muffin’ on Mo’s Kindle.
- ‘If he had turned around, I would’ve donkey punched him.’ – Mo about dropped cell on random dude.
- drafts. Mo. quote”
Don’t even ask me to decipher the last line; your guess is likely just as good as mine. The “donkey punch” entry, though, was Mo’s reaction after very carefully retrieving her cellphone from the lower back of a guy by whom we were standing in a crowded Mario’s. Somehow, neither he nor the people he was sitting with noticed (a.) that Mo’s phone had been dropped into his tramp-stamp region, nor (b.) a 5”1’ girl delicately reaching down his back and extracting a phone.
Fucking drunk people, huh? As for my running diary efforts, well…I guess I’ll need more practice. *opens bottle of Ketel One*