The summer begins...
The documentation of the first day of my last high school summer vacation.
I woke up at an early hour and sat around doing nothing for a little while. Eventually Bob Barker appeared and motivated me to get out and about with daily whatnot.
I went over to Aaron’s house, and we went to Shoe Carnival to pick up my purse, which had been carelessly left behind in a previous shopping escapade. I then took my horribly neglected car to its home, the Saturn dealership, to get a much deserved, three week and nine-hundred-forty-eight mile overdue oil change. After handing my Hello Kitty bedecked keys over to the maintenance man, Aaron and I went inside the showroom and proceeded to finish crossword puzzles in old People magazines.
After about twenty minutes, the same service guy comes in with a stack of papers. He says my exhaust pipe is leaking (the second occurrence in the two years I’ve owned this car), and that is needs to be replaced again. It was covered under the warranty since the thing had some weird manufacturer’s defect in the first place, so I was not too concerned. However, this forced Aaron and I to spend another 45 minutes together trying to think of a name for fish eggs that started with an R. We were showered with gifts, including Diet Coke and cookies. Unfortunately I was doubled over due to cramps, so I was unable to appreciate the kindness at the time.
I dropped Aaron off at home and went back to my place to recuperate from the pain in my uterus. Ended up falling asleep for an hour an a half – a very short nap by kaytay’s standards – and called Aaron back as he had asked me to do.
The one and only Jonathan was over at Aaron’s house, along with the Schmoo. We went to pick up Seth from his house, and ended up staying there for a half hour or so talking with his dad and watching the Simpsons. Seth’s dad is really cool. He looks just like Santa Clause, beard and all, and is full of vulgar words and hilarious stories about his childhood. He even offered to cook us oatmeal bars from scratch.
Upon arriving back at Aaron’s, we played Three Bucks Up for about an hour and a half. At first I did not want to join in, but when Jon offered to give me double the money I caught due to my broken and mangled right foot in a walking cast, I could not resist. I ended up winning three times out of about a million, which was much better than I expected to do. Jon is 6’4”, Aaron is 6’5”, and Schmoo is 6’6”. Seth doesn’t count due to his Polish ancestry and the fact that he beat everyone to the age of 21. I was lucky not to get hurt by the huge stampede of 820 pounds of competitive, grunting, whining madmen.
Nick showed up just as the game was coming to an end. He was wearing his usual sandals with work socks, the butt of all jokes as always. We were trying to decide on a place to eat after working up such an appetite, but Nick claimed to be full and went home to play Ultima. Everyone was really disappointed. He never seems to come with us anymore.
Jon suggested we go to The Stable, a restaurant he and his parents found a couple years ago off the highway. Jon swore it had awesome chicken wings and good soup, and despite his methadone-induced haze he was willing to drive if need be. We gave in to his pleas, but ended up taking the big purple van instead. Schmoo, the biggest of us all, was stuffed into the trunk and then we were off.
The food was okay, but the one empty chair sitting across from me at our table was a saddening sight. If only Nick had come with, we would have had a full table and another guy to split the bill with. Aaron and Schmoo were busy playing arcade games conveniently located next to our table, and winning bouncy balls for a quarter. Alas, they were unable to win the bonus something-or-other despite spending a fortune in quarters.
That was the highlight of my evening. A few of the boys went on a little drive afterwards, but I chose to stay home and be the responsible female that I always tend to be. No matter the ages of those involved, the girl of the group always seems to be the party pooper and bearer of common sense. I know someone needs to do it, but why me?
We miss you, Nickathan.