An Average Night (438 hits)
Category: HumorRating: 1 on 8 reviews (Rate this item) (V)
Submitted by Corporate Whore (View user info) at 2005-10-18 06:24:01 EDT
180boy gets his name from the car he drives. A very fast Nissan 180sx (240sx for you American buffoons. A 1.8 litre engine is never big enough, NOOO!!!! Gotta have an 8.9 litre engine to drop the kids at school, never know when you'll need the power to pull a sunken ocean liner back to the land.) Anyways 180boy is basically a 12 year old stuck in the body of a 19 year old. He drinks too much, parties too much and generally ensures he won't live past 22.
This story starts out innocently enough 180boy and myself decided to have Indian for dinner and discuss the possible break up and execution of his girlfriend. As per usual as soon as we look at the menu a battle breaks out over what to order. We settle on sharing a chicken tikka and a variety of creative and somewhat non-authentic cuisine. After both flirting with the hot waitress. (She seriously looked like Natalie Portman. Not in her skanky character in "Closer", but when she was young and innocent and hot and sooo naive in Star Wars. I am fairly certain that all our flirting just made us look like in the closet lovers trying to act straight. This is bad because he is bigger and hairer than me. Great, now I look like the bitch and he is the bear. Awesome, I can't wait to get home so he can give me some rough lovin'. After finishing dinner and paying, (I paid in an attempt to salvage my dignity and not look like a little gay boy) he dropped me home and headed up to a friends place to party.
It is at this stage that I go from being a part of the story to narrating it his first person. I got all of the details from a number of sources and pieced it back together.
____________________________________________________________________
I awoke to what felt like rain; cool, refreshing rain. I lay with my eyes closed for a few seconds enjoying my dreamy state and relishing the caress of the water until my brain started asking questions.
Why was there rain falling one me?
Why is the ground extremely cold, hard and tub shaped?
Why is the rain pooling around me to a point where I may drown?
The answers to these questions and a shocking headache were hurled my way as soon as I opened my eyes. I was lying in a bathtub and the shower was spewing cold water onto me. Excellent. I sat up and took stock of my situation. Well for one I looked just like a character in a renaissance painting. There was an inadequately sized handtowel draped amongst my loins. The only real differences between a Michelangelo work and myself were as follows:
1) I am better endowed than the poor bastards in his work.
2) None of the genitally challenged characters in his work wore a vomit soaked hand towel.
3) None of the aforementioned characters were ever featured posing in a half filled bathtub.
I stood up and surveyed the bathroom. For a few seconds I was sure I had missed the apocalypse. I was quite perturbed as to where my clothes were, but at the same time worried that I would discover the rest of the house in similar condition to the bathroom scene. It requires far more skill than one thinks to skate across a vomit covered floor while holding a wash/loin cloth.
It was time to venture into the rest of the premises. I wandered out of the bathroom and into Rattus' (Home owner's) bedroom. There I discovered my vomit soaked clothes and a marginally bigger towel. Yay, I now have an A4 envelope instead of a postage stamp to wear. I finally discovered Rattus in the living room, lying limp on a couch with a pizza box on his head and hugging an empty vodka bottle. The 4 horsemen of the apocalypse had struck in this room too. There was vomit everywhere, even in places vomit should never have reached. Behind the TV? How is this possible?
I decided to rouse Rattus by launching pillows at his head. This dislodged the pizza box but only made him nestle into the vodka bottle more. It appears that at some point in the night before he entered into some sort of common law relationship with the bottle. I can only pray I don't go home to a bottle of baileys watching TV and some shot glasses playing Lego. A playstation controller to the head quickly ended his romantic bottle fantasies and cast him in to the aftermath of alcohol war III.
"Man, where on God's earth are your clothes?" asked Rattus with more than a hint of panic in his voice.
I assured him I was just on the way to get some more and wandered outside to get them before he tried to tranquilize me and hand me over to the zoo.
Once outside I popped the boot of my ride, dropped my towel and started hunting for my clothes. In hindsight this probably wasn't the correct order in which to do these last three steps. After finally redressing I wandered inside and tried to piece together the events from last night.
9pm: Arrive at Rattus house, start a bottle of vodka each and play PS2.
1am: Start feeling a bit worse for wear, throw up on the couch and myself. Decide to go have a shower to sober up.
8:am: Wake up very confused.
Conclusion: Don't eat Indian food and drink vodka.
User Reviews
Submitted by corporate_whore (user info) at 2005-10-18 18:13:09 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
Its actually a true story so I didn't wanna "help" the ending...
Submitted by kaos-king (user info) at 2005-10-18 15:20:06 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
This wasn't bad. I liked the format. It was just anti-climatic.
Submitted by Average_Dan (user info) at 2005-10-18 11:30:22 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
Ehh...
ATTN: GHEY MENZ??
Submitted by hairycoo (user info) at 2005-10-18 07:35:59 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
pretty good for a whole lot of fuck all
Submitted by moneyshotforyou (user info) at 2005-10-18 07:22:37 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Ah, so many of those evenings.........mornings...........noons
Submitted by corporate_whore (user info) at 2005-10-18 06:47:30 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
Tough crowd...
Submitted by alas_me (user info) at 2005-10-18 06:45:32 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
"I assured him I was just on the way to get some more and wandered outside to get them before he tried to tranquilize me and hand me over to the zoo."
+2
Submitted by Fabit (user info) at 2005-10-18 06:39:58 EDT (#)
Ranking: -2
You just revised Anti-Climax in my mental lexicon