misstyrios

warning: long narrative about my night. not all that exciting upon reading it again. but fuck it.

so let me tell you about my saturday. most of it was fairly typical - i slept a little late, ran a few errands, went to the library to study for a few hours. i was still itching to go out, but since today in boston is pretty much a party starting from the get-go of early afternoon (GO PATRIOTS), everyone wanted to just take it easy last night in preparation of today's drink-and-football fest. so my friend julie and i decided to just go out to a local bar (which we tend to frequent because of its waiver to allow smoking) and have a beer. we get there and get our beers, but there's nowhere to sit, except at a table next to some classmates of ours whom we don't really like. but it was one of those situations where the feeling of resigned obligation kicked in. so we sat with them, plus one of their friends and her boyfriend. somehow, the people we knew all left the table and julie and i got stuck with the third party boyfriend who would not SHUT UP. upon learning that i had lived in NYC for years and julie had lived in philly, he proceeded to name every single bar in each place that he could think of, with far-too-frequent side notes about how his band played there. or wanted to play there. or wished they could play there. or once walked by. meanwhile, my friends ky, schmitty, and doug have called me no less than 8 times over the course of the hour that julie and i have been at the bar. the triumverate are my friends from high school - i adore them and think of them like my brothers, but they still live in our hometown and very rarely actually venture out to the actual city of boston, despite being a mere 30 miles away. so they were so excited to be making a trip into town that they felt the need to check up on me over and over again to try to convince me to come out with them too. unfortunately, they're a trio of single straight guys and their destination was this horrible club downtown. i usually hang out with them back in our hometown, where our usual haunt is a run-down townie pub. i actually quite loathe the club scene, especially in boston. but i wanted to see my boys, and i'm always giving them shit about never coming to the big bad city. i couldn't be the one to pussy out when they came to my turf. so julie jumped at the excuse to leave the yakking boyfriend and she graciously dropped me off at the train so i could head downtown. i get there and suffer through waiting in line, forced to watch a group of greasy-haired boys with fake leather jackets and plaid shirts try to hit on a group of extremely drunk girls wearing nothing more than what looked like training bras and foundation that was three shades too dark for them. none of my boys answered their phones, so i just went in to look for them. inside, it's like my own personal hell. stobe lights, people indiscriminately shoving just to be able to move 2 feet in any given direction, ridiculously overpriced drinks that can't even be had because there's too many people making out in front of the bar. i tried in vain to find my friends, and after about 20 minutes, i found schmitty only because he was so drunk that he happened to trip in my path and spill beer on me. he had lost the other two, so i managed to fight our way up to the less crowded balcony so he could sit down and i could scan for ky and doug. no dice. finally, doug called me. but he's freaking out because he got kicked out of the club more than an hour before and has been drunkenly wandering the streets of boston with absolutely no idea where he is or where he's going. so i managed to talk him back to the club. schmitty, in the meantime, has escaped my caregiving eye and has gone out to the dance floor which might as well have been the bermuda triangle. i lost him. i went outside to see doug and smoke a cigarette, only to hear doug rehash his getting-kicked-out story FAR too loudly. he then decided that we should go back inside, try to find ky (as ky had driven them all in) and go home. he managed to get past the door bouncer with his receipt, but as soon as we got past the coat check, three rentacops descended on him and whisked him outside again. i went in and once more vainly tried to find ky and schmitty. so at that point, i had managed to entirely assume the role of mother/organizer. which tends to happen. i think it comes from many summers of being a camp counselor and later an RA. i take charge, i make sure everything is ok, i take care of everyone. but it was futile at that point. on the very last vestiges of my phone battery, i managed to find doug at another bar and load him into a cab to go back to my apartment. schmitty and ky - lost. as soon as we get back home (after 10 minutes of listening to doug tell the story of getting kicked out AGAIN), schmitty calls to say that he's standing outside south station, he's lost his jacket, he's too drunk to figure out how to tell a cabbie how to get to my apartment, and he has no money to boot. so as soon as doug and i get to my apartment (where doug tells my poor roomates his getting kicked out story), we get in my car and drive all the way back downtown, where we have to violate at least a dozen traffic laws in order to get schmitty into the car. at this point, there was zero sign of ky. we had all called him repeatedly, to no avail. i wanted to check and see if his car was still there - i was exceptionally worried about ky, as he tends to very much go overboard when he drinks. plus, i love him the best and i wanted him to be ok. i by no means wanted him to be driving if, as i suspected, he had also gotten himself kicked out of the club. schmitty was passed out cold in the backseat and doug couldn't remember where they had parked. so we trolled the downtown streets to no avail. finally, i decided that i was just going to take the two of them back to our hometown. we weren't going to find kyrle randomly on the street. so i headed towards chinatown to get on the highway...at the intersection of tremont and boylston (the hub of boston clubs), we ran into the influx of crowds leaving after everything had closed down. we also witnessed a serious fight on the sidewalk. as we were stopped at the light, amidst a gridlock of traffic, we saw what seemed to be a relatively common place drunken melee between two guys. but then more and more people started to join in. and then a gigantic silver escalade screeched up to the curb, and a short but big dude jumped out with a long metal pole. and he just started beating people with it! indisciminately! he looked like he was trying to prove something in a bad, bad way. as the cops starting running toward the scene (there were already about 8 cop cars a block away), the guy jumped back in his car and hauled ass through a red light. but whose car was trying to make its way through the green light gridlock in order to get as far away from the scene as possible? MINE. so the guy went nuts and screeched around me, trying to squeeze through the space between my car and the guy behind me. for a second, it looked like he was going to just plow right into the side and slaughter my poor friends. but he managed to clear my back bumper and the other guy's front, only to then slam into the curb. but he kept on going. and i got on the highway as quickly as damn possible. at this point, it was well past 3 am. i drove doug and schmitty home, about a half hour drive with no traffic. i then contemplated going to my parents' house to crash for the rest of the night, but i didn't want to give my grandmother a heart attack my making the dog bark at 3:30 am when she wasn't expecting me at all. it's one thing if she knows i'm home - but the poor woman (whose bedroom is right next to the door) would probably simply die of fright if someone tried to get in the house at that hour. so i turned around and drove back to boston, hoping to god that ky had found some poor girl to take pity on him and offer him a place to sleep for the night. upon arriving back at home (and after strangely enjoying a drive on the highway with absolutely no traffic whatsoever), i realized that my head felt like it was full of concrete. ah, a nice sinus infection to top of the NIGHT OF FUN.

doug IMed this morning to report that ky had somehow made it home. can't wait to hear that story, especially after all the phone called begging me to come out with him, telling me how much he loved me, telling me how upset he would be if he couldn't see me.

and now i am going to go pretend beer is an antibiotic. go pats. and kudos to anyone who actually read this thing. i just needed to get it all out, i suppose.