2002-03-29 - 12:18 a.m.
Just got back from a dandy little trip. John B. (one of the greatest people ever) and I were supposed to meet some people at Michaels for karaoke tonight.
So John and I go out after I got done rehearsing my little actors, around 11:30 or so. He's already drunk off his ass, and I'm eager to start. We get to Michaels, go in, look around, and notice we're the only college kids in the bar.
Fair enough, we decide to check Millers, which was the back-up spot for our party, and turn around and walk out of Michaels without going in any farther than the front door.
Millers- same deal. No one we know is there, so we turn and run.
Back at the car, we decide, fuck drinking, lets park the car back at the college and walk over to the apartment of some mutual friends of ours for some other forms of substance use.
No parking spaces are available anywhere closer to civilization than the Storzer lot, so we park there and start walking up the hill.
We get as far as the Quads, and decide, fuck smoking, we're going to go back to our respective rooms, have a snack, and go to bed.
I know what you're thinking. You're thinking, Ken's going to complain about having such a wasted trip.
Wrong. What I'm going to point out is what I noticed when I got back to my room.
I consumed no alcohol tonight, yet I feel drunk. I'm lightheaded, my mouth is dry, I want something to eat, and I can barely keep my damn eyelids open.
Simply walking into two bars and toward a den of ill repute with a drunken guy has had the equivalent effect of a 40 on my body. How the FUCK did that happen?
And with that, I'm going to bed.
Ken
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