Saturday, November 06, 2004
A night in the Life
I'm still playing with the format of this thing, but basically I love the idea of writing a kind of journal of the, uh, unique things that happen in our humble home at 194 Bridge. I also love the idea of writing this thing and not telling my housemates about it for a while. Unfair? Maybe. Amoral? Probably. Hilarious? You had better believe it. Let's start with a rather common occurrence in our house: Going out and getting Drunk - you would hear the capital if I were speaking - in Windsor, such as we did last night.
The Cast: Me, Coty, Mike, Mel, Chris and JM.
The night started out innocently enough: a few drinks and decisions about where the hell we're going to go. We decide on The Bridge Tavern (ohhh, I'll be writing a whole article on that place, don't you worry), to be followed up by Twig and Berries. These are local bars in the university area. In fact, most of you reading this will be familiar with these places, therefore every university-area bar in the world, so not much of a description is necessary. I digress. On this night, for a change, everyone is in good spirits and relatively sober. It is said that Kareem is going to meet us at one of the bars for some "old school" partying, which we're all looking forward to.
We get to the Bridge and the band is really hot. For some reason I'm playing pool and not making a complete mess of the game. The usual calls for everyone to chug by JM are mostly and politely turned down. Until, that is, we decide to leave the bar. Everyone chugs, putting the crew unexpectedly in a more spritely mood. Next stop: Twigs.
All I can really say about Twigs that I didn't mention earlier is that in the space of a block, there are bars named Twig and Berries, The Liquor Box and Big Dick's. All are owned by the same guy, allegedly. This is Windsor for you.
We arrive at Twigs after a brief - and loud - stop at our friends the Engineer's house. They inform us, much to our horror, that no, they will not be joining us at the bar because of a midterm they have the next day - a Saturday. We felt for them, briefly, and continued on our way. Still no sign of Kareem.
Things are getting interesting now, for the booze from the Bridge is settling nicely in. Mike, JM and Coty beat the pants off some people at fussball and Chris is being admonished for being "creepy." Mel and I don't see it, but Coty assures him it's there. I begin to think it might just be the light in the bar.
For some damn reason I'm playing pool again with Coty and our opponents are questioning whether we're telling the truth when we say they're playing against two Tylers. I admit, it would blow my mind too, but carding us was not necessary. We lose.
Suddenly, it's two-thirty in the morning, the lights are on and our empty glasses are being literally scooped away from in-front of us. Unpleasant murmurs from the crowd say that it's time we leave the bar and go home, but not before a stop at the 'ol Pita Grill for food. I would like to take the time here to note that I live with four people that are physiologically not capable of drinking without eating a meal afterwards. I am really starting to believe that they would drop dead if they didn't. JM obviously can't afford food, so the pitiful look in his eyes whilst he watches Mike, Coty and Chris eat says that he's making food at home and there ain't nothin' gettin' in his way. I sure as hell don't plan to. Still no sign of Kareem.
Yikes, then I get home and the pot comes out, all of a sudden there's neighbours in our house and a cocker-spaniel wandering around. I swear to god, it's true. It's four in the morning and my bed is shaking from "last dance with Marry-Jane" coming from Coty's room, which I ask them to turn down; I have work to do the next day. The volume setting is turned from "Black Sabbath Concert" to "Ever-so-slightly-less-than Black Sabbath Concert." It's no matter and I fall asleep anyway.
And so ends the typical night at Delta f. Just wait until we get to an a-typical night; that's entertainment, but not this time. No, this afternoon I woke up just as I usually do on the weekend: Shaking the fuzz from my head and not looking forward to leaving my room because it smells like a Bingo hall in the rest of the house. More midterms are in the cards for me soon, so the library was my destiny; cultural psychology my horoscope. That being done, here I am, writing about my life in Delta f and posting it on the internet. Ah, student life.
The Cast: Me, Coty, Mike, Mel, Chris and JM.
The night started out innocently enough: a few drinks and decisions about where the hell we're going to go. We decide on The Bridge Tavern (ohhh, I'll be writing a whole article on that place, don't you worry), to be followed up by Twig and Berries. These are local bars in the university area. In fact, most of you reading this will be familiar with these places, therefore every university-area bar in the world, so not much of a description is necessary. I digress. On this night, for a change, everyone is in good spirits and relatively sober. It is said that Kareem is going to meet us at one of the bars for some "old school" partying, which we're all looking forward to.
We get to the Bridge and the band is really hot. For some reason I'm playing pool and not making a complete mess of the game. The usual calls for everyone to chug by JM are mostly and politely turned down. Until, that is, we decide to leave the bar. Everyone chugs, putting the crew unexpectedly in a more spritely mood. Next stop: Twigs.
All I can really say about Twigs that I didn't mention earlier is that in the space of a block, there are bars named Twig and Berries, The Liquor Box and Big Dick's. All are owned by the same guy, allegedly. This is Windsor for you.
We arrive at Twigs after a brief - and loud - stop at our friends the Engineer's house. They inform us, much to our horror, that no, they will not be joining us at the bar because of a midterm they have the next day - a Saturday. We felt for them, briefly, and continued on our way. Still no sign of Kareem.
Things are getting interesting now, for the booze from the Bridge is settling nicely in. Mike, JM and Coty beat the pants off some people at fussball and Chris is being admonished for being "creepy." Mel and I don't see it, but Coty assures him it's there. I begin to think it might just be the light in the bar.
For some damn reason I'm playing pool again with Coty and our opponents are questioning whether we're telling the truth when we say they're playing against two Tylers. I admit, it would blow my mind too, but carding us was not necessary. We lose.
Suddenly, it's two-thirty in the morning, the lights are on and our empty glasses are being literally scooped away from in-front of us. Unpleasant murmurs from the crowd say that it's time we leave the bar and go home, but not before a stop at the 'ol Pita Grill for food. I would like to take the time here to note that I live with four people that are physiologically not capable of drinking without eating a meal afterwards. I am really starting to believe that they would drop dead if they didn't. JM obviously can't afford food, so the pitiful look in his eyes whilst he watches Mike, Coty and Chris eat says that he's making food at home and there ain't nothin' gettin' in his way. I sure as hell don't plan to. Still no sign of Kareem.
Yikes, then I get home and the pot comes out, all of a sudden there's neighbours in our house and a cocker-spaniel wandering around. I swear to god, it's true. It's four in the morning and my bed is shaking from "last dance with Marry-Jane" coming from Coty's room, which I ask them to turn down; I have work to do the next day. The volume setting is turned from "Black Sabbath Concert" to "Ever-so-slightly-less-than Black Sabbath Concert." It's no matter and I fall asleep anyway.
And so ends the typical night at Delta f. Just wait until we get to an a-typical night; that's entertainment, but not this time. No, this afternoon I woke up just as I usually do on the weekend: Shaking the fuzz from my head and not looking forward to leaving my room because it smells like a Bingo hall in the rest of the house. More midterms are in the cards for me soon, so the library was my destiny; cultural psychology my horoscope. That being done, here I am, writing about my life in Delta f and posting it on the internet. Ah, student life.