The first time I went to a bar:
March 11th (yesterday, at this point) was my friend Aaron's birthday. We'd been planning a venture down to the bar all week, and today was the day. I fell asleep at 10:00AM, woke up at 3:00PM and spent most of the time cleaning in preparation for some of my aunts visiting. It was a simple, enjoyable afternoon.
At about 4:30,-5:00 I texted Aaron (who would've been off work by now) to ask what the plan was. Hours passed, filled with cleaning, playing TF2 and various other boring crap. My Aunts arrived, I drank a Martini with them, then got a text from Aaron saying we were good to go.
I trotted over to Chris' house, meeting Aaron and my pal Josh in the road in front of my friend Chris' house (Chris lives all of a block away) I had a bottle of Corona (one of those four-five dollar .40 of crappy beer dealies) that we drank a bit of there. We waited for awhile as various folks got ready and listened to Chris' Mom play the didgeridoo for a bit. (MORE LIKE DIGERIDON'T! but not really) So we didn't scoot down to The Winchester (their, and now I guess MY Pub of choice) until about ten.
To make our way down, we piled into Chris' mom's sedan. All six of us. I ended up rather awkwardly seated halfway on Josh's thigh and on the door. Heather, Chris' girlfriend didn't realize that we all would've been more comfortable if she'd sat on Chris' lap, which was crappy (the extra space taken up, not his lap). We rolled down there, halfway expecting Sam Scott (another friend we'd gotten in touch with) to appear on the street. I offered to get out and walk with him if we saw him, but not a sign of Sam was seen.
We arrived at The Winchester, got a pint, and waited for all of this to blow over.
We ordered a pitcher, sat our fine asses down and began conversing. Some of us would take a momentary leave to play darts or snag an order of food, but it was nice. We clinked glasses to Aaron and began drinking. It was really just a very happy time. I am still smiling.
Sam arrived some time later, us meeting him as we all went out for a cig break. We finished the Corona (save for the filthy backwash) and I strutted over to the railroad like some kind of Alpha-Rooster-Lion and tossed it into the air with the most awkward backhand you will ever see. It smashed, dogs barked, and Mac smiled. We went back in, consumed three more pitchers (and a Rum and Coke for me, delish!) and made our way out. As I rocked a piss Heather and Aaron argued and the group was momentarily broken, but with my endlessly benign brotherly personality, I brought us together again. We shuffled our way down to the Cabaret (a local strip club, the shittier of the two here), talking more and just generally enjoying ourselves.
When we arrived, I had trepidation. I figured I'd be denied, as luck was all that got me drunk at The Winchester. I was indeed denied, but hell, who wants to go into the fucking Cabaret? I shared a cigarette with Heather as Chris, her and I talked with some drunk guy who could not stop verbally making love to Toronto. They decided to head in, I forced a group hug, and wandered home. Pissing several places as I went, and sending some of them a threatening text demanding they have a good time (or else I would get them).
And now I'm here, friends. More than likely asleep as you read this. Maintain in your brains that I wrote this while rather drunk off of Rickard's Red, a horrid half-bottle of Corona and various other things. Enjoy yourselves, and good night.
