Thursday, July 9, 2009

this is what day drinking gets you

I should probably make a label for blogs about my senior year of college. Seems like all my best stories happened then. Does this mean that I peaked too early? Who knows. Anyway..

This story takes place on Marathon Monday. For all of those who don't know, Marathon Monday is the day of the Boston Marathon. The smart politicians of Boston decided to make a state-wide holiday called Patriots Day. This frees up the general population to day drink, crawl from bar to bar and drunkenly cheer on the marathoners for about eight minutes. My recollection of where we went on this day is fuzzy, but pictures tell me that we were at bars in Kenmore Square, on Boylston, and somehow made it back to Allston. I do remember playing Beirut at the Kells and slamming my head so hard on the bar when I reached down to pick up a ping pong ball that I literally felt my brain vibrate. The fact that I was potentially concussed did not hinder my drinking at all, in case you were wondering.

The last bar of the night was Our House. It was always Our House. While there I meet a guy and we talk for a while. Since we're both wasted we decide that we're basically in love and his friends leave him at the bar. Turns out that he lives in Worcester (aka really far away and that will henceforth be his name). Luckily his friends haven't left the city, so he comes back to my apartment with me and my roommates and his friends agree to pick him up in the morning. I am very adamant that this does NOT mean that we're going to have sex. So Worcester and I spend the night talking, cuddling, making out, and in the morning his friends come and get him. We exchange numbers and make tentative plans to hang out again. However, since Worcester lives about 45 minutes away, I don't really expect much.

Over the next couple of weeks Worcester and I talk often on the phone and I'm starting to think that maybe, just maybe, I met a normal dude at the bar, right? Wrong. I am always wrong about this, it seems. One night, or should I say, early morning, I get a call from him. I groggily pick up the phone and say hello and am greeted with breathing. Heavy breathing. I am half asleep and confused, and then eventually that is replaced by disgust as I hear Worcester grunting and talking dirty and all I can manage is "what the fuck?!" before I slam down the phone.

Needless to say, that was the end of Worcester.

This should give you an idea of how it sounded when I picked up the phone:

Yesterday there was a Lord of the Rings Reference and today it's Star Wars. Am I officially a geek or what?


PJ said...

Peaked too early? Nah. Just got it out of your system before you became too old and start making a fool of yourself.

Welcome to my geek world!

Unknown said...

Geek world is sort of fun :)