So Friday night was one of those nights. A group of friends (basically 5 guys and another shemale friend that lives and shares my awkward life) and myself felt that a good night out was indeed needed after the stress of these last weeks and made the necessary mission to a club that goes by the magical name of Fez. As was required for these FEZtivies (I know, HOW original), This small and intimate group of mis-matched individuals decided to pre-match.
**For those of you reading that do NOT know what a Pre-match is (oh for shame. SHAME ON YOU), it is when a group of socially awkward individuals (like myself) meet up with other individuals, namely those that are socially acceptable and drink copious amounts of cheap alcohol before making said mission to chosen destination for a night of magical, raucous, drunken activites.**
As is expected, with the arrival of two unexpected shemales into this male dominated group of neanderthals, the "situation" was awkward to start. Both shemales stood around, pouring more drinks than was necessary for 7:30 p.m. and trying (failing) to engage in conversaton with these primitive beasts. After the liqour began to pour freely, the conversation went from mere grunts and groans to actual speeches. Although predominantly based around sex and taunting of both said shemales (it's best if you don't ask) there was conversation, a blessing if you will.
Now, these situations aren't NORMALLY terrible and CAN be fixed, but, of course in my life, this is NOT allowed. For starters, my ex was at said pre-match. Now, this would not be a problem, if said ex and I were allowed to be bygons. Which we're not. Thanks to the new shemale in his life that feels that "there is something naughty naughty kinky kinky" going on there. Which, yet again, we're not.
After a brief stint of awkward waves and smiles, the alcohol eased the mood and allowed for conversation to flow freely between ALL said individuals, the previously primitive male dominance dissappearing with there mental social filters. The night continued with drunken actions and slurred words, unstable actions and cross-eyed glances.
Said group missioned to the said FEZ but grew tiresome and bored of this event and left soon after. A small group of individuals, (namely myself, my brother (20, for those asking, ladies), two male companions and (you guessed it) my ex) made the inevitable mission to the OH SO famous, McDonalds. We parked (I parked) the four wheeled transporter and decided to WALK into McDonalds and make a proper sit down meal. Now as is expected for two in the morning, one was only allowed to DRIVE through McDonalds, our sit-down meal plan was DESTROYED. Too lazy to once again, drive AROUND to the drive-through section, my ex and myself ambled (I ambled, he drunkenly stumbled) over to the take-out section. The idotic restaurant has a new service that asks you to order via an electric window thing, once the weight of your car has been felt. We did not have a car on us at that precise moment. We tried in vain to get the electric box's attention, running at full speed over assumed weight line, jumping at thye same time, skipping over, stomping, smacking, screaming at the box in anguish and shaking it in anger.
After a said period of time, a man on a bicycle came past and offered to ride over the weight line for us. Why a man was on a bicycle at two in the morning still causes me to raise eyebrow and cock my head (to the left, I don't like the right). We ordered our meals and made our way BACK to the car, where the other drunkards were STILL sitting, unaware that we had in fact, stopped, eaten, left the car and gotten back in. When these primitive beasts caught a wiff of the glorious processed meal, they demanded their own sevicings and we had to drive (they were too gone to stumble) back to the take-out line.
Whilst waiting for the buffons to decide what they wanted, two of said drunken fools, my brother and a companion thta goes by the name of James, decided it would be fun to wrestle/kick-box/karate kick/fight outside McDonalds at two in the morning. So for a laugh, we let them do it (whilst recording it and placing a random order, using their money and eating their food). When they had calmed down, and gotten back into said vehicle, we started driving again. As I reached a circle, the same two fools jumped out and began wrestling again. I drove on with the other two male indiviudals in the back of the vehicle. The two drunkards, realizing that the vehicle was no longer at the circle, chased the car to the robots, where I patiently waited... before driving a little and making them run a little more. As they decided to get back in, three cars appeared (yes at two in the morning) whilst I was pulled over in the middle of the road. THEN (yes it was coming) I saw blue lights. OF COURSE there would be a traffic officer at TWO in the morning at the EXACT moment that I pulled over IN THE MIDDLE OF THE ROAD. I feebly apologised to this abnormally large woman on a very small motorbike for the drunken tomfoolery and departed quickly.
My night, although not seeming so, was awkward yet fun. Another night lived with those inescapable moments of embarrassment.
No comments:
Post a Comment