On certain occasions, a night is filled with wild quotes and occurrences, but has no real unifying Ã¢â‚¬Å“storyÃ¢â‚¬Â. Recently, I had such a night. The below transcript is my attempt to share it with you.
Dave is the wildest person I know. Nick is the most rational person I know when he is sober, but the most narcoleptic person I know when he is drunk. We will not meet sober Nick tonight and, for the most part, we will not meet drunk Nick either. Dave, Nick, and I have been pre-gaming for far too long.
Me: Ã¢â‚¬Å“CueÃ¢â‚¬â„¢s [a dive bar nearby] is about to close. Should we bother?Ã¢â‚¬Â
At CueÃ¢â‚¬â„¢s. Nick is already groggy and slides into a booth. Dave and I approach the bar.
Dave: Ã¢â‚¬Å“We will have two pitchers, please.Ã¢â‚¬Â
Bartender: Ã¢â‚¬Å“You wonÃ¢â‚¬â„¢t have time to drink those.Ã¢â‚¬Â
Dave: Ã¢â‚¬Å“Yes we will. And four shots of Jameson.Ã¢â‚¬Â
Fifteen minutes, two pitchers, and four shots of Jameson, pass. Nick is asleep in the booth. CueÃ¢â‚¬â„¢s closes.
Me: Ã¢â‚¬Å“WeÃ¢â‚¬â„¢re being kicked out.Ã¢â‚¬Â
Dave: Ã¢â‚¬Å“I know.Ã¢â‚¬Â
Me: Ã¢â‚¬Å“Where should we go? Nick is asleep.Ã¢â‚¬Â
Dave: Ã¢â‚¬Å“A strip club?Ã¢â‚¬Â
Me: Ã¢â‚¬Å“Strip clubÃ¢â‚¬â„¢ll be the only thing open. Nick, wake up! WeÃ¢â‚¬â„¢re going to a strip club.Ã¢â‚¬Â
Dave: Ã¢â‚¬Å“Wait, I donÃ¢â‚¬â„¢t want to go to a strip club. LetÃ¢â‚¬â„¢s find a house party.Ã¢â‚¬Â
Me: Ã¢â‚¬Å“I canÃ¢â‚¬â„¢t find a house party right now.Ã¢â‚¬Â
45 Seconds, two texts, and one miracle later:
Me: Ã¢â‚¬Å“Wait, I found one. And itÃ¢â‚¬â„¢s at a mansion.Ã¢â‚¬Â [DISCLAIMER: This is not normal for me. It ranks in my top three coolest looking/douchiest sounding moments ever.]
At the mansion, we realize weÃ¢â‚¬â„¢ve beaten the hosts. Nick, who woke up long enough to get into the cab and then out of it once we arrived, has fallen asleep in the yard. Dave and I explore the grounds.
Dave: Ã¢â‚¬Å“Is that a bocce ball court?Ã¢â‚¬Â
Me: Ã¢â‚¬Å“I think itÃ¢â‚¬â„¢s a pool. ItÃ¢â‚¬â„¢s just coveredÃ¢â‚¬Â
Dave: Ã¢â‚¬Å“Definitely a f—ing bocce ball court. IÃ¢â‚¬â„¢m going to step on it.Ã¢â‚¬Â
Dave narrowly misses falling into what is most definitely a covered pool.
Dave: Ã¢â‚¬Å“That is a f—ing pool.Ã¢â‚¬Â
The hosts arrive home.
Dave: Hello. IÃ¢â‚¬â„¢m Dave. Do you happen to have sandwich materials here?
Female Host: Ã¢â‚¬Å“I believe so. Why do-
We make and consume sandwiches for approximately one hour. This is less of a house party and more of an after-partyÃ¢â‚¬Â¦ if after parties were just Ã¢â‚¬Å“build-your-ownÃ¢â‚¬Â sandwich bars. And Ã¢â‚¬â€œ letÃ¢â‚¬â„¢s be honest Ã¢â‚¬â€œ they should be.
Me: Hold on. WhereÃ¢â‚¬â„¢s Nick?
Dave: I have no idea. Have you tasted this pepperoni!? ItÃ¢â‚¬â„¢s f—ing delicious!
(He turns to the hosts)
Dave: This is very good pepperoni!
I search for Nick. With two floors, eight bedrooms, a private theater, and multiple offices, this is no easy feat (Let me also mention that this house was the scene for my Ã¢â‚¬Å“Must Love DogsÃ¢â‚¬Â article. I have no idea why I keep getting invited back).
After twenty minutes of searching, I find Nick asleep on the hardwood floor of an important-looking office filled with equally important-looking documents/equipment. We still donÃ¢â‚¬â„¢t know how he got there. I move him to a bed before he can sleepwalk into anything expensive, and then retire myself.
In the morning, Nick has a near panic attack due to waking up in a mansion when he fell asleep at a bar. Also, he realizes, though his shorts are on, his boxers somehow made it downstairs. We still donÃ¢â‚¬â„¢t know that story. As we leave, Dave tells me a secret.
Dave: I was looking for a vase all night. Probably a good thing there werenÃ¢â‚¬â„¢t any.
Me: How come?
Dave: I thought it would be funny to take a shit in one.