Friday was shaping up to be a momentous party night. After 40 minutes of unsuccesfully attempting to park in the mission, I decided to instead park by 1015 Folsom and take a cab back to The Putppetmaster's house. I cracked open the jumbo bottle of champagne and we were off on a trip. When we all piled into the cab back to 1015, we were already a back seat party. We only needed to wait for the club crowd to catch up.
Things were going well until just before 1AM, when I ran into a girlfriend who was completely wasted. I'd seen her super drunk before, and this was something else entirely. I took her outside because I thought she might either pass out or be sick. I figured the cold air would do her some good... and it did... for about an hour... during the peak of the party. When we got back to the club, she was still a bit fuzzy but she could hold herself up and follow a conversation. We ran into the friends she had come with and that was the last I saw of her that night. My buzz was practically gone, but my peeps were still going strong so I gave them until 3AM to work it out. I drove Puppetmaster and Twin Peaks to get some Mexican food and then dropped them each off at home before I headed back over the bridge. I was tired, not so much physically as mentally.
When I woke up with a headache the next morning, it was an irritating reminder that I had done something nice for another person. Deposit one coin in the karma bank.
No comments:
Post a Comment