Tonight I drank for the first time since last
Friday, so I felt very
high school happy. I went to my friend's
place and we drank a couple forties apiece. We
talked shop for a while, the usual business,
social commentary, and
literature, then we went off to another friend's place to go
clubbing.
As this was going to be my first clubbing experience, I was at first reluctant. Initially, I flat-out refused to go once I heard a half dozen annoying girls were going. After I had ~52 ounces in me, however, I decided to go at the last minute.
I verged right at the fork in the road, and at this my friends were pleased. We drove to the aforementioned friend's and she met us outside.
"You're going!?" she said.
"Yes." I say.
"O shit. It's a witch" exclaims my friend, the driver. Indeed, I think.
Following her are about six other females whom I recognize. Last comes an inoffensively offensive male who, while uninhaled smoke streams out of his mouth, exclaims an inaudible something.
"What the hell is this thing?" I say, referring to the, I hate to say it, repugnant conformity of the (I also hate to say) individual.
I got out of the car. I refused to spend the evening with this kid. I shudder to think of the strained conversation I would have had with him.
I walked home by myself.