Tuesday, June 4, 2013

The Increasingly Poor Decisions of Cassandra [Something]

I went to the bar to get a drink or three,
You drunk and hot girl.
Bartender was master of Mixology,
You drunk and hot girl.
I wanted a wallbanger or negroni,
But then I noticed the red eyes of that creep,
His glare was literally giving off heat,
To drunk and hot girls.

...I spent a weekend in Ithaca, and wanted to get some good drinks from one of the best bartenders in town. He make drinks from the tears of baby angels, and they make you want to cry unicorn jizz and glitter. Unfortunately, I noticed a woman at the end of the bar, looking very not happy with the long-haired creepy dude staring at her and mumbling something that definitely did not enamour her with him. He kind of looked like a shaven extra from Duck Dynasty or something. She actually left and went to another part of the bar to avoid Creepy Dude. Twice. The second time, she sat right next to me.

I just wanted to sip on my negroni,
You drunk and hot girl.
You pulled up a stool and sat right next to me,
You drunk and hot girl.
You complimented me on my choice of apparel,
I asked if Creepy Dude was giving you hell,
No more negroni. It is time to repel
This drunk and hot girl.

...She struck up a conversation with me, and i immediately asked if Creepy Dude was causing her undue drama. He had those eyes that screamed, “In my spare time, I masturbate to repeats of ‘Ducktales’ while in a bathtub of a mixture of lemur blood and my own tears.” I wound up talking to her the entire night whilst keeping an eye on Creepy Dude to make sure he didn’t make any sudden weird movements. Before I knew it, it was closing time, and we had to go home.

It’s closing time and now it is time to leave,
You drunk and hot girl.
You said that you must get your phone down the street,
You drunk and hot girl.
The street you left it is the street I live on.
I thought it was best that you not walk alone.
‘Cause Creepy Dude was still glaring at your thong,
You drunk and hot girl.

I didn’t finish my awesome drink, because it was closing time. I asked Drunk and Hot Girl how she was getting home, and she said she was walking, but she had to get her phone from her friend’s house up the street, the same street on which I was staying! That’s perfect. We could walk together, and that would make me feel better about her walking off in the night, drunk as hell...I realised that in order to numb the annoyance of Creepy Dude, she just kept loading up on wine...She had at least 1.5 bottles within an hour.

I want to get you to your friends up the street,
You drunk and hot girl.
You swear that they’re west, but I know that they’re east,
You drunk and hot girl.
That Creepy Dude just crossed our path one more time
Your sense of direction is blurred by the wine.
I just want to make sure that you get home fine,
You drunk and hot girl.

I asked her how she was getting home, and she said she was walking but had to get her phone from her friend’s house, as she forgot it there. The house was on the same street as mine! We walked for a few blocks, and when I suggested we get on Borealis Street (two blocks east), she insisted that it was to the west, and that’s when I realised she was too drunk to know where the hell she was. As we cross an intersection, who, of all people is walking and glaring at us in the opposite direction? F***ing Creepy Dude...Seriously, I wish I was making this up.

We she traveled eight blocks but we only went two,
You drunk and hot girl.
You asked those people people who don’t even know you,
You drunk and hot girl.
At last, I got you onto the correct road,
I’ll get my car, then we can get your damn phone,
And finally I will get your silly a** home,
You drunk and hot girl.

After “following” her walking directions for a while, she saw some people and said, “Hey! Do you remember which number Greg’s house is?” They fittingly answered, “...Hi...we don’t know who Greg is...” Awesome. Now at this point, I could easily just pick her up and carry her to the right street, but then I’D be the a**hole...After circling the same four damn blocks, I finally guided her to Borealis Street, at which point I said that i would go grab my car keys and we could drive to Greg’s house and she can get a ride home. SInce the house in which I was staying was off-street and behind another house down a slightly dark walkway, I told her to just stay on the street, and I’d run and get them. When I came out, she was gone...probably the smartest thing she did that night. I drove up a block to find her stumbling aimlessly in the street.

I doubt you’ll remember a thing that happened,
You drunk and hot girl.
You wandered the dark streets inebriated.
You drunk and hot girl.
That Creepy Dude’s advances were deflected.
I tried to save you when you fell in that hedge.
At least I know that you made it to your bed,
You drunk and hot girl.

It turned out that she had no idea what address Greg’s house was, nor did she remember what the front porch looked like. She was so drunk, I doubt she remembered her name, even 2 ½ hours after we’d left the bar and wandered the streets looking for the house. I suggested we just get her home, and she can email/Facebook Greg about the phone in the morning. She then halfway guided me to her flat, which was 15 minutes driving on a highway. “You were seriously going to walk this at night?” I asked. “I was goinnnn-Zzzzzzzzzz...”, she replied. Thank goodness I asked her address for GPSing purposes. Depending on her for street directions seemed unwise. I got her home and made sure she got in the door and locked it behind her.

I am pretty sure that were she alone, or had I given up on walking her, Either her run-in with Creepy Dude outside the bar would have been a lot more unfortunate than just a glare, or she would have tripped on the bridge we crossed, and her body would be found the next morning. There is nothing good that can come of an extremely drunk person walking around in the dark aimlessly on and off the streets, as though cars don’t exist.

I promptly went home, tired as hell, ready to flop. My friend asked me sleepily, “How was your night?” I just said I’d tell her tomorrow. In my head, though I couldn’t stop thinking:

I’ve gone through too much bulls*** just to mess with these drunk and hot girls.

...Seriously, am I on a hidden camera show or something and no one is telling me?

No comments:

Post a Comment

Disqus for The Chronicles of Nonsense