The night begins at approximately 7:00 p.m. central daylight time. Kehly begins drowning herself in the likes of Admiral Nelson, and there was no room for pacing herself on her itinerary it turned out. The rest of the group is responsibly consuming alcoholic beverages of their choice at a reasonable and safe pace as Kehly fills her body to the brim with shot after shot. The night goes on, I’m playing beer bong and mingling with other party goers not unlike myself, not really paying any special attention to Kehly or her B.A.C. Soon enough, Amy suggests we voyage over to Seth’s keg (which by the way was located in godforsaken Bumblefuck, and walking was quite literally the worst decision we had ever made. Plus it was raining).
So we gather up Kehly and begin the 800 block walk toward party numero dos. It is at this point that I realize bringing Kehly was like bringing an oversized toddler with down sydrome and an alcohol problem.
About twenty five seconds into our trek, Kehly falls. Like totally wipes out, face on the pavement, scratched up knees, the whole works. Amy and I laugh and point and heckle her to keep up, because naturally she was at least a half a block behind us, as always. We continue to walk at a brisk pace as to make good time, when we hear another calamity. I look over my shoulder to see Kehly, yet again, giving the sidewalk a facial. Kehly, my, god.
SO, we keep moving; Amy up ahead because she has the legs of an antelope, me a few steps behind her with my umbrella, and Kehly lumbering along at least thirty feet back. “Beccaaaa, why do you even have an umbrella?! It’s not even raining!!” she whines. “Kehly, are you kidding me? It is raining. It’s raining, right now–you’re IN, the rain. You’ve got to be kidding me.” Amy and I give a chorus of “Oh my god”s and “You can’t be serious”s and keep trucking along.
We finally get to Seth’s, and I have a cup, Kehly doesn’t. A few minutes go by and Kehly stumbles over and goes, “Beccaaaa…can I have your cup? I want to play flippy cup.” I look at her, baffled, and say, “No, Kehly. Get your own cup. Give me one good reason why I should give you mine right now.” She harasses me for a few more moments until forcefully falling into me and knocking my entire beer all over my purse and my shirt. “KEHLY, dear lord, get out of my sight.” Kehly looks up at me with her eyes half closed in a drunken stupor and responds, “Well at least it didn’t get on your purse–” I’m like, “Kehly, THAT is where you spilled it–literally all over my purse. I could probably dump half a cup of beer literally out of my purse right now. Go downstairs.”
Kehly stomps away and I don’t see her for some time. A while goes by, and I decide I’m going to leave. I go down, find the drunkass, and she follows behind me. No sooner did we step foot out of the house does she make another dramatic, face-smashing fall into the pavement. Totally biffs it. I am in disbelief that she is actually living at this point, and am about two seconds from strangling her and hiding her body behind a dumpster.
We start walking the eight billion blocks toward Johnson, and finally make it downtown. Some lost kids ask me where Gilbert street is, so I begin thinking about it when Kehly points over her shoulder and tries to sound convincing by saying, “It’s in that direction.” Kehly was literally pointing north toward like, Fairchild. “Kehly, no, stop talking.” She was way off, and I was about to smithe her, god bless her soul. She starts walking again and I kid you not, bites the curb AGAIN. I do not even feel bad for her at this point. She was literally walking as if she were wearing rollerblades on an ice rink covered in marbles.
I’m dragging her dysfunctional ass through downtown, and we finally make it back to our apartment. I hit the sack, and wake up two hours later, about 4:15 a.m., to the sound of someone coming into the apartment. I get up to investigate, only to see Kehly in sweats lumbering through the front door. “Kehly, what the fuck are you doing?”
“I just got back from the gym,” she replies.
Of course I look at her in disbelief, and say, “Kehly, are you out of your fucking mind? You can’t walk around in the middle of the night BY yourself, and what the fuck are you doing at the gym at four in the morning?”
“But Becca I wasn’t in the dark, I was walking in the daylight–”
“The DAYLIGHT, Kehly? Look out the window, you’ve got to be kidding me right now.”
“Well not the daylight, but there’s lights.”
I tell her she’s a dumbass and return to my room. Morning comes and I tell her all about her ridiculous night and how she’s lucky to be alive because I was TOO close to ending her life hours before. I advise her that she should probably switch schools and assume a new alias, because her night was too embarrassing to keep on living. I then deleted her from my phone and my Facebook friends. Still love the woman though, that squirrely mother fucker. I shall return the favor tonight. Oh yes.
“CLOSE it, BITCH!”