Saturday July 11, 2009

Woke up to my 9:30 AM alarm this morning. I do the routine; shower, clothes, teeth, etc. After all is said and done with my morning adventure, I cruise into the kitchen to make some breakfast. As I'm making my way through the living room, I notice Shimon passed out on my couch. That's always a good sign. Part of me wants to fuck with him... badly... but I don't have too much time before work and I am kind of fixated on breakfast at the moment. I've been on this huge breakfast kick ever since Tyler and I had this elaborate conversation while severely intoxicated about eating breakfast and he managed to convince me that breakfast is indeed the most important part of the day. I find this kind of ironic that I have been told by hundreds of people since I was a child that breakfast is the most important part of the day and never listened to a single one... until the night my delinquent friend tells me in a drunken stupor that it is actually a true statement. Suddenly, I am a firm believer.

I suddenly realize that the biggest reason I don't normally rock a breakfast in the morning is out of sheer laziness on my part. It's not that I'm not hungry, I just hate the bullshit that comes with making breakfast. And seeing that I'm not a morning person, the last thing I want to think about doing after I wake up is construct anything. I yearn for the days when I can tell Flo to have Ma whip me up a toasted bagel with cream cheese and kiss my grits. Unfortunately, I'm a long ways away from ever being graced with said luxury, so it's all on me to get my toasted bagel with cream cheese, which I do. I wolf the sonbitch down, grab a cup of coffee and go back to my room to pack up my laptop to bring to work with me. I bid farewell to the bastards, contemplate a potential tea-bagging on a certain sleeping Shimon (I opt not to), and it's out the door.

I get to work around 10:30 AM and clock in before going to get the bank deposit ready. I always make damn sure I clock in before I lay a finger on anything work related. I will not even attempt to think about working without getting paid. I bomb in back and start putting the deposit together from yesterday's sales. I finish everything in less than 10 minutes (thank god they give me 30 minutes before I have to get on the floor), stuff the shit in a bag and cruise over to the bank next door.

Once I get there, I walk straight to the teller to have him work his magic so I can get the fuck out of there as quick as possible. For the last few weeks, these motherfuckers have been relentless at trying to get me to sign up with an account there. I have politely told them multiple times that I am not interested due to the fact that I already have an account with another bank and I also have no money to put into a second account. But no matter how many excuses I give, they have a way around it. So it's now gotten to the point that I try to sneak my way in and out of the place before one of these greedy sons of bitches spots me and tries at their convincing skills again. And then it happens. Homeboy hands me the receipt, and just as I'm turning to walk through the door, I hear the scumbag. "You ready to open that account with us?" I turn around about half way while still walking steadily towards the exit, "not today, sorry." I can't get to my car fast enough once I leave the building. Fuck my life.

I get back to work and still have like 15 minutes before my floor shift actually starts. I play the good guy today and offer to let Nicole cruise out 15 minutes early. This doesn't happen very often. But Ryan isn't coming in today, so I'm in better spirits than usual. I'm also going to see the No Doubt concert tonight with my brother, Shimon, and Hart, so I'm also kind of excited about that. I'm not a big No Doubt fan, but it was a free ticket and I did listen to their album, "Tragic Kingdom" a lot when it first came out, circa '95. So there is some nostalgic value that comes with going to the show tonight.

Jill shows up a few minutes later to relieve the other opener that morning, so it's her and I rocking mid-shift this afternoon, which also lifts a huge weight off of my shoulders because Jill is chill as fuck to work with. I grab a mug of coffee and the paper and get myself situated for the rest of the day.

The shift goes by pretty quickly for the most part. I rock a burrito from Chipotle around 1:30 or so and enjoy it in all it's artery-clogging glory as I check e-mail and update the diary on my laptop. I also manage to convince Jill to get a ticket to the concert tonight, as there will be a lot of people going that we know. She gets some tickets online for her and her sisters and I go back to updating my recent shenanigans.

I shoot a call over to Tool to find out what time we're leaving for the show and he kind of freaks out because I don't get off work till 5 and the show starts at 7:30. Him and Shimon are afraid they won't get good seats, but it's at the Tweeter Center (or what used to be called Tweeter Center... not sure what it is named now) and we have lawn seats, so they're going to suck some balls no matter where we sit. And, let's face it, it's fuckin' No Doubt. I'm not too adamant on making sure I am front and center to be able to belt the lyrics of "I'm Just A Girl" along with Gwen Stefani. But I don't want to further piss him off on such an important night like tonight, so I shoot a text over to Natalie, who's supposed to come in for me at 5. I ask her if she wouldn't mind coming in at 4, and she says she'll do it. Right on. My work here is done.

4:00 PM rolls around and Natalie shows up. I bomb out of work pretty quick and make it home just around 4:30. I walk in and notice that no one's even fuckin' showed up yet! I ask Tool where everyone is and he assures me they are on their way. A little frustrated, I go to the bathroom to take a leak and decide to chill out in front of my t.v. for the time being, which is actually just what I needed because I was pretty fucking tired.

The doorbell rings about a half hour later and it's Hart and Shimon. I throw on a shirt and my shoes and suggest we get going. It is then that I am informed that we're still waiting on our friend Kate and her boyfriend, Josh to get there. Again, I'm so glad I got out of work an hour early so I could be home to witness everyone showing up before we left. Kate and Josh finally show up and Josh cruises in wielding a case of beer that I assume is for pre-show consumption. Sure enough, it is. They all take a seat around the table and start cracking open beers. I'm in fucking awe at this point, but there is free beer now, so I kind of forget that I'm pissed. I crack one open and join the conversation at the table.

Just about 4 beers later, we finally decide to head out. Tool busts out 4 Gatorade bottles and a bottle of vodka. I already know what it's for, but I kind of want to humor myself so I ask him for an explanation. He tells me what I already knew. We're going back to Freshman year of high school where we would strategically mix vodka and Gatorade together. I am quite reluctant at first, but he informs me that the only reason for doing this is because beer is almost $10 a glass at this place. I see his point and proceed to spike my sports drink.

Between the handful of beers and the spiked Gatorade, I am rocking a pretty insane buzz by the time we arrive at the show. We walk up to the entrance and Tool and Shimon hit up the Will call booth o get their tickets. Me and Hart cruise in and meet up with Kate and Josh. The entire time we are waiting for Tool and Shimon, my phone is blowing up with texts from friends I didn't even know were at this fucking show asking me where I am sitting. I inform them of the current situation and assure I will do my best to find everyone sometime throughout the show. Shimon and Tool finally get in and immediately order us up a round of beers from the concession stands. Of course, I am baffled by these antics because I thought that the purpose of the vodka Gatorade consumption on the ride here was to prevent having to buy beer at the show. Not the case when we got there. Hart orders us all a 20oz beer and it's on to finding where we are sitting.

We find a spot on the lawn and sit down to enjoy our drinks and listen to the opening band, Paramore, whom I'm not quite fond of. The target demographic for this band seems to be 12-16 year old emo girls, and it painfully shows when observing the portion of the crowd actually singing along to the songs compared to those not really phased by anything that is being played by said band. Luckily, they wrap up fairly quick. Three more beers later, No Doubt finally takes the stage and I'm hammered drunk. Good times.

The show ends up being insanely entertaining. At some point throughout the set, I meet up with Lori who is there with a handful of her friends. I rock out with them for the rest of the night. A good time, as they say, is had by all. After the show ends, I bid Lori and her crew farewell and I go to meet back up with Tool, Shimon, and Hart. I run into them and Tool and Shimon are just annihilated. Hart keeps his composure because he's driving, bless his heart. They also at some point throughout the show managed to pick up a few chicks sitting by them. I congratulate them on their accomplishments, until I find out that these girls are younger than I am. I tell them that picking up borderline jail bait is not exactly the kind of thing I want to congratulate them on, and I stick to that statement. We all hit the bathrooms and they bid the under-agers farewell before going to the car.

We get out to the parking lot and realize that we were not at all paying attention to where we parked. We wind up splitting up into pairs: Tool and Shimon, Me and Hart. This is kind of a loaded way of searching for the car, seeing that Hart's the only moderately sober one out of all of us and Shimon can barely stand up straight at this point. Surprisingly enough, Shimon and Tool find the car and call us over. We take off out of the parking lot and start to head home.

While stuck in the aftermath traffic of the concert, Shimon finally loses it and pukes pretty much his entire body weight out the window while we are waiting at a stop light. We all have a good laugh, and Shimon passes out within seconds of finishing. We continue on our journey home. We're in Tinley Park, which is where my now ex-girlfriend lives, so we contemplate doing the juvenile thing by t.p-ing her house... or at least pissing on her car door handles. I opt to just skip the juvenile adventure, as fun and enticing as it ultimately sounds.

We get home just around 1:30 AM and I bomb upstairs, somehow manage to take out my contacts, and proceed to pass the fuck out on my bed within seconds.