Saturday January 23, 2010

Wake up around 5:30 AM after passing out on the couch. Tyler's still awake and just getting ready to pass out on the couch in the nook, which we have now dubbed "Tyler's Bedroom" any time he is home from school, as he only crashes in my nook. I get up and drunkenly stumble to my room where I pass out for another four hours. I wake up around 9:30 with a massive hangover, down some advil and a bottle of water, and proceed to pass back out for another four and a half hours.

I finally wake up around 2:00 in the afternoon, the latest I've slept in a long time. My hangover is still present, but considerably toned down from the rude awakening earlier. I bomb out to the living room to start cleaning up from last night's shenanigans. Tyler's still passed the fuck out in the nook, but my noisy cleaning wakes him up pretty quickly. He helps me for a bit and we get the entire front of the condo fuckin' spotless. Tyler then cruises into the bathroom to shower while I cruise into my room to check e-mail and listen to some jams. It's my only day off this entire week, so I feel that I should make it count. I throw on my collection of Bone Thugs tunes and chill out until Tyler's done in the bathroom. He finishes cleaning up and we both chill in my room for the next hour or so blaring more Thugs and some Wu-Tang Clan. It's a pretty dope morning... or afternoon.

We decide to hit up El Burrito Mexicano for lunch. We shoot a call over to Justin to see if he's off work yet, but he doesn't answer, leading us to believe he's stuck at work later than he intended. We cruise out of my place and head over to Sam's Club so I can pick up my new sets of contacts. I go to the eye care department and they hook me up with my order. Just as we're about to leave, Tyler says he needs a case of beer for a party tonight. Seeing I'm the only one with a Sam's Club membership, it's up to me to assist him in his purchase. He grabs a 24-case of long-neck MGD and we start to cruise out... until we spot the free sample section of the store. We decide to have some appetizers before our lunch at El Mex, so we hit up every sample stand within the place, grab the beer, and head over to the registers. Successful Sam's Club trip.

We get to the registers, which just so happen to be fuckin' flooded with motherfuckers doing their grocery shopping. After ten minutes of waiting in line, we finally get checked out. As we're leaving, Tyler makes a pit stop at the food court for a coke. While I wait for him to fill his cup, I decide to clean out my coat pockets, which have been stuffed with quite the collection of receipts over the last few months. I take handfuls of receipt paper and toss them all in the garbage. It wasn't until we were standing in line waiting to be checked out by the front door guy that I realized how big of a fuckin' idiot I am. I needed the receipt to show homeboy at the front door, which just so happens to now be in the food court garbage can with all of my other receipts. I contemplate going to fish it out, but I figure this has got to happen somewhat often, so there's got to be a simple solution. Not the case. Not the fucking case at all.

I bomb back over to the register where we checked out at and ask the cashier to reprint my receipt, a task she says is not possible to do at the register. I then bomb over to customer service and tell the woman what happened. She was extremely fucking rude, but I gave her the benefit of the doubt, as it was busier that shit in that place and I did, indeed, pull a pretty big dumb ass move. She tells me she needs my membership card and a register number. I run back over to the register and get the number, number 14. I come back to customer service and tell her the number. She takes my card and plugs it all into the computer. She then proceeds to tell me that there are no records of me having shopped at Sam's Club this afternoon. I immediately tell her that's impossible and even ask her if she wants to talk to the cashier herself to confirm I, indeed, paid for my items. She rudely tells me that she can't go on the cashier's word. I tell her there has to be a mistake, going so far as to bring up my bank account on my Blackberry to show her proof that there was a purchase from Sam's Club that afternoon. She doesn't budge and tells me that I need the receipt.

Long story short, Tyler and I end up standing at customer service for over a half an hour while not one, not two, not three, but FOUR motherfuckers are crowded around this computer trying to figure out how I can get a copy of my receipt. Now, I respect the working class citizens, as I am one of them. I don't look down on people, no matter how low their profession may come off as. I look at it as, "fuck it, you have a job and you're making money. Better than being a fuckin' bum." But, in this case, when it takes FOUR motherfuckers to figure out how to solve a problem which, I can almost guarantee, happens somewhat often, then these people really don't know how to do their jobs properly. And that, I have little patience and respect for.

In the end, they get a receipt for me, stating the problem was that it takes twenty minutes for the transactions to be recorded into the main system, hence why they couldn't find it right away. I call bullshit and I tell them I think it was because the dumb-ass cashier forgot to scan my membership card. I figure if they were aware that it takes twenty minutes for the transaction to go through the system, they would have come out and told me that initially. But they didn't, so I call their bullshit. They stick to their story and, instead of throwing a fit, just accept it and bomb out of there as quick as I can. Let's just say that Sam's Club lost a loyal customer that day. Fuck them right in the ass. They certainly know how to ruin a perfectly good hangover.

After the Sam's Club fiasco, we shoot another call over to Justin, as we are literally right next door to the restaurant he works at. He still doesn't answer, so we decide to just say, "fuck it," and cruise over to El Mex. We get there and put in our orders. I order up a steak burrito suizo, which is a burrito with melted cheese on top of the tortilla, and Tyler follows suite and does the same. While we wait for our food, I cruise next door to the cigarette shop for a pack of smokes. I get back into El Mex, grab the food, and cruise back to my place. Justin finally gets back to us after we pull out of the parking lot. We tell him we can go back and order him something, but he tells us he'll just grab something quick and meet us at my place.

We get back to the condo and decide to throw in Waiting For Guffman while we tear into our burritos. Justin shows up not too long after with his inferior, but respectable, Subway sandwich. We chill out on the couch and devour our lunch while peeping out the movie, which ends up being pretty fucking funny. Justin cruises shortly after, stating he's gotta get some sleep. Tool comes home shortly after and suggests to me that I go do some light grocery shopping for the week because he's going to Florida tomorrow for Smoothie training. I grab Tyler and we cruise over to Target to do some VERY light shopping.

Post shopping, we cruise through the rest of Target to see if we spot any impulsive-buy gems. We wind up in the toy aisle, one thing leads to another, and we get into a pretty epic toy light-saber battle in the middle of the aisle. This lasts for a good seven minutes or so, until we are interrupted by our friend, Marissa, and her younger sister. We put our swords away and try to play it off like we didn't just get caught doing something almost as queer as sucking each other off. Thankfully, they find out antics quite humorous, never questioning our sexuality for a second... at least not directly or that we know of. We bullshit with the two ladies for a bit and then decide it's probably a good time to check out and cruise back home, as I've got to go to the always belated Darien Caribou Christmas Party that, even though I quit over two years ago, I continue being invited to. It's usually a good time, so I agree to make an appearance.

We cruise out of Target and make a pit stop at the liquor store so I can get some festivities for myself. I grab a six-pack of Red Stripe, pay the good man, and cruise home to get ready. I get back to the condo and hit the shower while Tyler chills on the couch watching Cops like the filthy redneck he aspires to ultimately one day become. I continue getting ready, throw on some pimp threads, and wait for my friend and former co-worker, Tracy, to pick me up for the party. She gets there not long after I finish getting ready, I bid Tyler farewell, agreeing that I'll probably see him later on, and then I cruise out to the party. We make a pit stop at the same liquor store I was just at so that Tracy's boyfriend, Mylos, can pick up some booze. He comes back to the car, however, claiming that they won't accept his ID for some odd reason, even though homeboy is like 2 years older than I am. He asks if I can go in and take care of it, ultimately making me look like quite the booze hound, as it's my second trip into this liquor store in the last hour.

After the pit stop, we cruise out to the party, which just so happens to be in the middle of nowhere in Naperville. We finally get to the girl's house and cruise inside. I say hi to all my old co-workers and my old manager, Aaron, who I still keep in rather good touch with. He was by far the best manager I have ever worked for, not to mention a chill guy to have a beer and a smoke with. We bullshit and more and more alcohol consumption ensues.

The rest of the night is a blur, as I end up getting exceptionally shit-faced. At some point, I talk to Justin, who says they are cruising to my house. I don't remember what happened with that situation. We end up cruising out of the party at some time. I'm thinking it may have been close to 2:00 AM or so, but I don't remember a damn thing. Thankfully, I didn't drive. I did, however, proceed to pass the fuck out in my bed with all of my clothes from that night still on. Not sure when this happened, but it did.