Now accepting donations.

3 Feb

MY, my, what a weekend it has been. I have many-an-adventure to share with you all, so grab a beer and be right there with me.

Friday night began with Laura informing me that her boyfriend was having a party. Not just any party: a party with 6+ kegs, army themed, with a DJ. Naturally I was in and gathered the troops (no pun intended) to get their drink on with us. Cole, Steve, Nick, Kehly and I head over and begin the festiviti. I was immediately in love with the venue for a number of reasons: 1) it was gigantic and had 3 stories plus the basement, 2) it had various creatures including the biggest sucker fish I’ve ever seen, a bunny rabbit, and a python that I got to hold, and 3) the biggest refrigerator known to man. I was excited.
A few esteemed 5CD members also joined a little bit later, and Josh started a serious picture taking extravaganza (See Hog Barn & Hog Barn 2). The real adventure didn’t start til AFTER the party, however.

All night long I had been voicing how badly I wanted Taco Bell after we left. I harassed Josh and Cole about it, and they agreed that Taco Bell would be a fine idea and that we would definitely make a beeline for it immediately upon leaving the fiesta de military. We get everyone rounded up, and head out. Moments later, I realize how quickly everyone is forging forward. I’m in heels, and this was not going to work for me. “WHY ARE WE RUSHING SO FAST!?” Josh responds that we have to catch the :06 bus.


It becomes increasingly clear that these hooligans were ditching out on Taco Bell just so they wouldn’t have to make the journey back to the dorms on foot. Kehly and I are displeased. We run for some time, until Kehly and I say, “…Do you just want to go to Taco Bell anyway, and just walk home?” Neither of us care about the trek, so we part from the pack and start making our way to Taco Bell.

The time is somewhere right around 2:00 a.m., and at this point I’m not even sure if Taco Bell is open. I text Johnny and he says “2 or 3.” I’m hopeful. We pass some chick surrounded by cops who are giving her the sobriety field test. I decide not to ask. Moments later, a group of drunk women start walking by, and I yell, “IS TACO BELL STILL OPEN!?”


I’m even more hopeful and now more excited than ever.
Another group passes, this time WITH Taco Bell in their hands.


“Yeaahhh it’s open 24 hours!!!!” They replied.

“…You’re wrong, but that’s AWESOME!”

So, Kehly and I keep on keepin on. We finally reach the ped mall. We race up the sidewalk in our drunken stupor, and LITERALLY as I reached out for the door handle, some TB employee sticks her fat head out and says, “We’re closed.”

I stood with the most horrified look on my face for a good ten seconds before demanding, “LADY, we literally just ran THIRTEEN blocks for this shit–I NEED a chicken quesadilla and a chalupa!”

“Sorry, we’re closed.”

I look at the time. It’s 2:15. Who closes a place of business at a quarter after the hour? I’m irate, and did the first thing that came to mind:

“I’m setting you guys on fire.”

The disturbed overweight employee responds, “We’ll call the cops!!”

“I’M SETTING YOU ON FIRE, RIGHT NOW!” I yell, and storm around the corner. Kehly meets me over there a couple of seconds later, and we start to actually discuss our current situation. Kehly and I decide to just go to Pita Pit, but then Kehly realizes she only has $5 and I only have $6, meaning I couldn’t lend her any. “No problem,” I say, as I march up to a group of drunken hooligans.

“Can anyone spare us ONE dollar? Just one buck; we NEED Pita Pit.”

One particular tanked individual found this to be a great opportunity to start a hug fest, getting in the way of my donation hunt. He says, “Will you just taaaalk to me??”
“I’ll talk to you if you give me a dollar,” I say.

We take some pictures with the men, you know, warm up to them, and I again announce that I NEED a dollar. A cracked out man sitting on a ledge finally calls out, “I’ll give ya a dollar…” YES!!! He does, and Kehly and I continue on our way. Moments later, I realize something: “Kehly…our meals are $5.75 each. We’re going to need over $6 apiece. So now we need approximately 50 cents, and I’m not about to let that get in my way. The next people I come across are a couple making out by a stop light.

“Hi there…yeah, excuse me….do you have like, just FIFTY cents I could have?”

The man digs in his pockets and apologizes, but he does not have any change of any sort. The woman on the other hand reaches in her purse and produces two shiny quarters. YES. We run to Pita Pit. Kehly gets her Chicken Caesar and I get my Crave Bacon. We devoured it while chatting with a nice young man named Cortez who worked there until his manager started squawking at him from the window and telling him to get back to work. We finish our well-earned meal and head out.

After walking for a couple blocks, I start to seriously complain about my feet. The heels were not feeling so comfortable at this point, and we had well over a mile to go. I tried the no-shoes number for a bit, but there was a lot of debris of sorts on the sidewalks, and that was just as painful. Kehly and I stop in our tracks in dismay. What do we doooooo?! We had no money whatsoever for a cab. However, a cab rolls up and stops at the stop light. I stand hunched over, staring at his van with the sad puppy dog face. He rolls his window down and asks Kehly if we need a ride. P.S. he’s foreign, like wears a turban and talks like an Indian. Kehly announces that we have no money. He slowly rolls up next to me; I am holding the sad, helpless position.

“You need ride??” he asks.

“Yeah, but we have no money! We need to get to Mayflower. 😦 ”

“How much money you hoff?”

“Literally zero dollars.”

The cab driver ponders for a moment and then says, “I go drive some blocks and zen come back; if you steel hee-ah I come pick you up.”

YESSS. Kehly and I once again feel hopeful. So we stand there for some time, Kehly becomes very cold so we embrace for a few minutes. Then we decide the foreign taxi driver is not coming back. RATS. A few seconds later, an SUV starts pulling around the corner and I hear a girl’s voice yell, “YOU’RE A SLUUUUUT!!!!”

…that HAS to be Taylor Travis.

I look over, and it IS. I have never been so excited to see a prostitute in my life. Taylor, Paige, and their male friend pull over and we jump in, and they drive us the rest of the way to Mayflower.


This note is so long. The bad part is, I have more, but I’ll just leave it for another time because I have a 6 page paper due in two days that I haven’t even started yet. Awesome.

“I’ll give you ten dollars if you know who this is.”
“…it rhymes with ‘boots.'”



Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: