Monday, November 2, 2009

My Special Day

The one night this year that was supposed to be really, really great was a total and complete failure. I don't get many nights off work and kid-watching, let alone special occasions, so this was a very rare circumstance when I found out I had halloween completely responsibility free. I didn't even have to be back home the next morning, I could spend all night out, doing whatever the fuck I wanted.

For weeks I toiled over plans, ran over scenarios, for a while I was going to have dates with both Jenn and Nikky. Then plans fell through with Jenn but that was ok since Nikky got a hotel room just down from all the crazy halloween parties in town.

It looked pretty good.

Well, let me put it this way. For how good the plans sounded, apparently I didn't take myself into consideration. You see, I don't particularly like people. I don't like crowds. I don't like traffic. I don't even particularly like to drink. So in hindsight, this plan was terrific... for someone the complete opposite of myself.

By the time I found parking, wandered blocks and blocks through the packed crowds of people, said 'Hi' to the people I needed to say Hi to, waited forty minutes in line to pay a twenty dollar cover to get into the Bar Nikky was waiting at, I was already in a funk.

Then I get inside and I find Nikky completely plastered. She introduces me to her frinds three different times. The Rap "music" is so loud that one of her friends decides to give me a nick-name because she's tired of yelling "WHAT?" every time someone tells her my name.

Have I mentioned that I hate, HATE, rap music? The ratio of decent rap songs to crap rap songs is about 1 to 20, the next worse genre being country music with a ratio of 1 to 10. At least they play instruments.

The song they were playing there was particularly bad. It was some loud, repetitive base beat, overlaid with a guy saying "do the kinky leg, do the kinky leg" or some such crap, Over and over and over and over.

Nikky wants to dance. I don't dance and she can't stand up straight. I down four shots in about five minutes. When that doesn't improve the night's outlook I tell Nikky I'm leaving.

Let's just say she didn't take that very well. She's drunk, she has a hotel room, she's got friends she was showing off for, and her date for the night is leaving. I don't feel too bad because it's late and the place is full of young military guys scooping up the drunk chicks left and right. She'd have a better time with one of them.

I drive forty minutes home, half drunk, pissed off, at three o'clock in the morning. Luckily the cops were all too busy with the fully drunk people to pay me any attention. I slip in quietly, trying not to wake up the babysitter who'd stayed the night anticipating neither Cat or me to get home until the next morning.

Of all of the things I could have done and enjoyed on my special once-in-a-year night, I managed to do exactly none of them. I pissed off Nikky. I wasted my one night. I got exactly nothing out of it. In fact, I think it negatively impacted most aspects of my life.

I go to bed by myself. I delete all of Nikky's angry, drunk texts from the bar. I ponder my place in the universe.

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