There was a certain peace and tranquility Saturday Morning
around 11…
My roommate was texting/twittering/facebooking/intagraming
in the corner of the room; clad in a Green Blackhawks with black wide-rimmed
glasses that combined with his frame, make him look like Clark Kent at Hockey
game.
My Friend "Em” is sitting by the table and had just
finished painting her nails but was curiously mulling over whether to paint
them over.
She had just
been presented with some Orange, White and Green polish that a young lady had
left behind two St. Patrick’s Days ago.
It had been chilling in the junk drawer ever since.
In a moment of stupidity (theme of my day), I had waited
until AFTER she had finished to mention it.
And there I stood, in all my glory: Gray Calvin Klein
sneakers, faded blue jeans and a green shirt with an Irish three-leaf clover
mockup of the Chicago flag on the front and the number 92 with the name EL
GUAPO above it in pride.
Sombrero that I “borrowed” from a Mexican restaurant in my more moronic days hanging on my back, bowl of Honey Bunches of Oats in my hands.
We were so locked in; you’d think we were prepping for a
championship game.
“Looked at them both, grinned, and said, “So, I guess this is
like the calm before the storm?”
I know this chill moment won’t last too long…
Tequila, whiskey, beer, and vodka neatly packed into the
fridge.
iPod charging with a playlist so dangerous, it has warrants
in nine states.
A couple more cases of beer already stacked in the car
outside for the adventure ahead.
Because an hour from now, we’ll be joined by others.
My guy Kwas, one of the nicest and loyal people I know.
Kells, an old college friend in town from Kansas City for
the weekend to see Chicago’s Famous Green River with her girlfriends.
A pair of cuties from Michigan...
The “Pilsen” crew.
Three hours from now, we’ll be in a bar with even more friends.
All from different walks of life. Marketing reps, bankers, and quite a few future attorneys.
We’ll pack 45 people into a 35-seater trolley and cruise the
city. Our driver will bitch at us
because we’re not supposed to have that many, never mind the fact we ordered
and paid for a 40-person one...
But we also make sure he’s more than compensated to deal
with us and cruise around the city for few hours. He should be kissing our Asses with how much we tipped him
up front.
Four hours from now, I’ll be doing one of the things I do
best: Bringing people together.
If there is a
common factor between two people and I know, I’m going to make sure they
meet. Those who came on strangers
will get off as friends.
Five hours from now, I’ll be gulping down some strange
Jameson-Tequila concoction as Ginuwine’s ‘Pony’ blasts from the vehicle’s
speakers.
Things always instantly slow down and get real sexy any time
that song hits, but today is different…
Like there’s a
LOT of good-looking women on this trolley getting it right now…
Damn. So excuse
me while I step in and do my dance then.
No dance offs
though. I keep telling people, I’m
through with that life!
Fast forward to eight hours from now:
Trolley is gone.
The after-house party is winding down and I’m trying to coordinate a
rendezvous with some more friends.
Only problem is I’m speaking in mumbles right now. A dialect I’m not too proud to admit
I’m fluent in sometimes when I’ve had a little too much.
The voices on the on the other end of the phone clearly
can’t understand me.
Hell, I can’t understand me. That means it’s almost about
time to head home. I’m a hindrance
more than help at this point if I go anywhere else.
Nine hours from now, it will be ballgame over for this
fella. Time to call it quits.
Ten hours from now, I’ll be in bed sound asleep. It’s 9pm.
You could technically say I lost.
Knocked out early in the
evening by raging during the day.
There used to
be a time in life where I’d get up the next day upset because I had that
fear of missing out (FOMO). I mean
who wants to miss out on a good story?
Sure enough, there were some I missed out on too. Turns out, the reasons behind my departure will end up being a pretty good story...
19 hours from
now, I’ll wake up with a good amount of sleep under my belt and without
anything stolen or missing. So
while I didn’t win the night, I won a day without the stress of searching for a
wallet or stressing about a broken phone.
But I’m thinking too far ahead. It’s just 11:05 and I have a bowl of cereal to finish.
There’s a storm on its way…
-WST
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