Before The Go! Team concert last Saturday, Stacy and Allison brought a flask of rum to nip on in the parking lot. We concealed ourselves in our car in the parking lot, oddly enough next to a car with a duo of (underage?) strangers engaging in the same semi-covert activity. There’s nothing like a bunch of people well over the age of twenty-one having to conceal their alcohol consumption like a bunch of teenagers. Perhaps it’s only fitting since we were drinking like teenagers: the rum proved too strong for me to take more than a few sips, while others ended up having pukelets in their mouths. Afterwards, Michael Michael suggested we head to a bar he saw nearby. As it turned out, that bar was actually a Mexican restaurant. Across the street, however, we located a wine bar, but we decided it was too sophisticated for us, so we opted for the Mexican restaurant that served margaritas with wine instead of tequila; we ordered beers.
After the concert, my friends and I went for round two at a bar where 90 Proof was playing. Aside from us, the crowd was pretty firmly 40 years and older, so we drank a lot of beer until it didn’t matter. Honestly, though, I don’t think it’s necessary to drink in this situation for us to feel comfortable anymore, though we might pretend we have to. We’re encroaching more and more on official “townie” territory.
Earlier in the evening, Kurosh had been poking around a building at our former college and found a room with a multitude of funny hats. After many beers, we decided we needed to try on these funny hats, even if it was two in the morning. Our getaway car pulled up and four of us hopped out, prepared to wear amusing headpieces. Alas, we encountered our first obstacle when the door Kurosh thought would be unlocked was now locked.
While Kurosh tried to find another way in, I noticed a new statue nearby. Taken by its bizarre posture, I chose to gratify it anally.
After my romp, Allison took her turn to mount it. By the time my slow camera actually snapped the picture, Allison had begun falling off the poor guy. Sometimes technological inferiorities are a blessing, as you’ll see from the photo below.
Meanwhile, Kurosh found other ways of breaking into the building, returning to let us in through the side door. Touring through the unoccupied building, we discovered the hats were missing, either reclaimed by their owners or pillaged by an earlier posse. No matter, we still had some adventure in us; certainly there would be something to pilfer. Stumbling across some napkins, I shoved them down my pants. Soon we encountered other disposable paper products: toilet paper and paper towels, essentials the school used to provide to us for free. It amounted to the pettiest of crimes, but it still provided a rush. On the way out, Kurosh rolled one of the paper towel rolls down the hall and out the door as a calling card for our thievery. We sprinted comically to meet our getaway/designated driver and escaped without arrest.
Only once we were safely home did it occur to us that that building has many security cameras. It would be pretty embarrassing if the college administration checked the source of the minor mayhem and recognize a group of recent alumni. Stacy disavowed herself of any wrong-doing, citing having not taken any toilet paper. I recalled her taking a picture of the pope from the custodial closet, however, an act she denied for a second before checking her person and remembering what she had done. Stealing toilet paper might be mildly unscrupulous, but heisting a religious decoration is downright blasphemous. Fortunately, considering a week has passed without any repercussions, I think we’re in the clear. Alas, I don’t feel this passage of time has helped us mature any.
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