I don't even know where to begin. It's been a long and exhausting last 6 or 7 days, so let's just go down the list in chronological order...
Last Wednesday I woke up for work, and didn't feel so good. When I got out of bed, I nearly fell over. Then I quickly realized I had to puke, thus very awkward stumble to the bathroom began, and ended with me passed out on the cold tile floor. Sometime later I decided to try and take a shower, but gave up for fear that I would fall and hit my head on the tub. None of the was fun. Or pretty.
My now naked, wet, shivering excuse for a body crawled back to bed, and there it stayed, until 3PM. Needless to say, I didn't go to work that day. However, I did throw up again (this was the mother load) and slowly felt a little bit better. Thursday morning I still felt like shit, but I made myself go to work, and by the end of the day I felt almost like myself.
This was a good thing because I had tickets to see Bon Iver later that night. I met up with my friend at a cozy little lesbian bar called the Closet, had a drink, then walked a few blocks down to the Lakeshore Theater. Nice place. The opening band was terrible, but when Justin Vernon got up on stage, everyone got very quiet. In fact, the audience was nearly silent the whole time, and Justin's amazing voice filled the room.
Seriously. Awesome. Shit.
Friday I heard from my insurance company. The total for the damage to my car? Oh, let's round slightly up: $6,000. And since my car is no longer in Production, and it was built in Japan (and where all the parts must come from), the body shop thinks it might be ready by May 4. FUCK!
After I hung up with them I immediately called Enterprise Rent-A-Car and told them there is no way in hell I am driving a fucking Chrysler Pacifica for another 3+ weeks. 4 days of tooling around the city in that Mommy-Mobile was more than enough for me. So instead they gave me a silver Pontiac G6. With chrome wheels. Argh. Not a great car, but an improvement no less.
I decided I was going to stay in on Friday Night and do shit around the apartment. Roomie was set to move out on Saturday and the place was a mess, and nearly all my clothes were dirty. I must say, spending a Friday Night at the laundry mat is depressing, but at least it was quiet. Around 11PM my Bro's Ex-GF invited me out to meet her and her friends out for drinks. I agreed, but reluctantly on account of the rain.
The L got to me to Lakeview just shy of Midnight and I made my way to the Mexican place they were hanging out at. Of coarse when I get there, no one is there and the place is about to close for the night. Damnnit. Had Bro's Ex-GF had the decency to answer her phone I would have known that they were at a bar across the street.
Since I was not-really-dressed-up-with-no-where-to-go I called a friend that lives in Boystown, and walked over there to get a drink. Not a huge fan of Sidetrack, but what the hell, why not go and check out some boys. I find my friend got a drink when someone grabbed my shoulder, and it was my friend that went with me to the concert on Thursday Night!
I think I stayed there until about 2AM-ish and I was planning on going home but my friend had other ideas. Since I had several rum and cokes in my bloodstream he convinced me to go the late night club, Charlie's. Never been there before and didn't really want to, as it always struck me as being very seedy.
Regardless, I went and managed to have a good time. There were lots of drugged out homo's, some drunks, some seriously hot guys and then there was me. Since I don't dance I mainly hung out on the sidelines and got drunk and eye fucked people like the whore I secretly am.
Eventually, and I'm not sure how, I ended up on the...dance floor (GASP) and into a what can only be described as a homosexual mosh pit of sorts. People were kinda dancing but defiantly grabbing one another and I ended up making out with some random guy I thought was hot (and my friend later confirmed this). Pretty sure he was tall with dark hair and nice lips. I have no idea what his name is and I am sure I will never see him again.
I'm told I also kissed another guy, but alas my memory fails me. I guess I am a whore after all. We closed out the club around 4AM and took a cab home, and got home around 4:45AM. Long night that was.
And then Roomie woke me up at 9AM (argh!) to start moving her furniture out. She thoughtfully bought breakfast for her crew which consisted of her BF, our friend and me. After we ate I made us all screwdrivers (yum!) and we got high. At 10:30AM. Jesus...
At least her stuff was light and all her small things were already moved out. The highlight of that move was when I was carring a really fucking heavy box of books, and smashed my left hand in a door frame. "Ouch" I thought to myself but only later did I look down to see the blood pouring out of my hand, which is when I noticed the trail of blood behind me. Fun!
Then since I hadn't had my fill of moving I took the cargo van and drove 35 miles north of Chicago to clearout 1 of my Dad's storage lockers. His furniture was not as light as Roomies. In fact, it was Really Fucking Heavy.
Thankfully my friend Bear offered to help me out, and since he was going to a show in the city later that night, he offered to come back to my place and move the new shit in. We finally got done around 7PM, and although most sane people would have called it a day, I decided to join Bear at the show.
The Boweevils used to be one of the greatest Chicago Punk Rock bands in the late 90's, and I used LOVE seeing them live. After the lead singer quit the band to attend Med School (seriously) the band broke up, but every so often they get back together for show or 2.
Man, drinking cans of shitty beer and having losing more of my hearing is a hell of a lot of fun. The show was at the Double Door which totally kicks ass - easily one of the best venues in Chicago. The place was packed which all sorts of people, including some really hot guys. You know, Chicago needs some sort of a gay punk bar...sigh.
That was another late night, and Bear and I didn't get back to my place until 3AM. Whew! All of Sunday was spent moving stuff around and cleaning my place. You have no idea how much cat hair I found hiding behind the furniture; I'm talking softball sized hair balls!
Despite how sore I am (pretty sure I did something really bad to my left shoulder as even typing hurts) it's totally worth it. Roomie has an awesome new place around the corner from me, and I get to walk around without wearing any pants. WOOT!
Last Wednesday I woke up for work, and didn't feel so good. When I got out of bed, I nearly fell over. Then I quickly realized I had to puke, thus very awkward stumble to the bathroom began, and ended with me passed out on the cold tile floor. Sometime later I decided to try and take a shower, but gave up for fear that I would fall and hit my head on the tub. None of the was fun. Or pretty.
My now naked, wet, shivering excuse for a body crawled back to bed, and there it stayed, until 3PM. Needless to say, I didn't go to work that day. However, I did throw up again (this was the mother load) and slowly felt a little bit better. Thursday morning I still felt like shit, but I made myself go to work, and by the end of the day I felt almost like myself.
This was a good thing because I had tickets to see Bon Iver later that night. I met up with my friend at a cozy little lesbian bar called the Closet, had a drink, then walked a few blocks down to the Lakeshore Theater. Nice place. The opening band was terrible, but when Justin Vernon got up on stage, everyone got very quiet. In fact, the audience was nearly silent the whole time, and Justin's amazing voice filled the room.
Seriously. Awesome. Shit.
Friday I heard from my insurance company. The total for the damage to my car? Oh, let's round slightly up: $6,000. And since my car is no longer in Production, and it was built in Japan (and where all the parts must come from), the body shop thinks it might be ready by May 4. FUCK!
After I hung up with them I immediately called Enterprise Rent-A-Car and told them there is no way in hell I am driving a fucking Chrysler Pacifica for another 3+ weeks. 4 days of tooling around the city in that Mommy-Mobile was more than enough for me. So instead they gave me a silver Pontiac G6. With chrome wheels. Argh. Not a great car, but an improvement no less.
I decided I was going to stay in on Friday Night and do shit around the apartment. Roomie was set to move out on Saturday and the place was a mess, and nearly all my clothes were dirty. I must say, spending a Friday Night at the laundry mat is depressing, but at least it was quiet. Around 11PM my Bro's Ex-GF invited me out to meet her and her friends out for drinks. I agreed, but reluctantly on account of the rain.
The L got to me to Lakeview just shy of Midnight and I made my way to the Mexican place they were hanging out at. Of coarse when I get there, no one is there and the place is about to close for the night. Damnnit. Had Bro's Ex-GF had the decency to answer her phone I would have known that they were at a bar across the street.
Since I was not-really-dressed-up-with-no-where-to-go I called a friend that lives in Boystown, and walked over there to get a drink. Not a huge fan of Sidetrack, but what the hell, why not go and check out some boys. I find my friend got a drink when someone grabbed my shoulder, and it was my friend that went with me to the concert on Thursday Night!
I think I stayed there until about 2AM-ish and I was planning on going home but my friend had other ideas. Since I had several rum and cokes in my bloodstream he convinced me to go the late night club, Charlie's. Never been there before and didn't really want to, as it always struck me as being very seedy.
Regardless, I went and managed to have a good time. There were lots of drugged out homo's, some drunks, some seriously hot guys and then there was me. Since I don't dance I mainly hung out on the sidelines and got drunk and eye fucked people like the whore I secretly am.
Eventually, and I'm not sure how, I ended up on the...dance floor (GASP) and into a what can only be described as a homosexual mosh pit of sorts. People were kinda dancing but defiantly grabbing one another and I ended up making out with some random guy I thought was hot (and my friend later confirmed this). Pretty sure he was tall with dark hair and nice lips. I have no idea what his name is and I am sure I will never see him again.
I'm told I also kissed another guy, but alas my memory fails me. I guess I am a whore after all. We closed out the club around 4AM and took a cab home, and got home around 4:45AM. Long night that was.
And then Roomie woke me up at 9AM (argh!) to start moving her furniture out. She thoughtfully bought breakfast for her crew which consisted of her BF, our friend and me. After we ate I made us all screwdrivers (yum!) and we got high. At 10:30AM. Jesus...
At least her stuff was light and all her small things were already moved out. The highlight of that move was when I was carring a really fucking heavy box of books, and smashed my left hand in a door frame. "Ouch" I thought to myself but only later did I look down to see the blood pouring out of my hand, which is when I noticed the trail of blood behind me. Fun!
Then since I hadn't had my fill of moving I took the cargo van and drove 35 miles north of Chicago to clearout 1 of my Dad's storage lockers. His furniture was not as light as Roomies. In fact, it was Really Fucking Heavy.
Thankfully my friend Bear offered to help me out, and since he was going to a show in the city later that night, he offered to come back to my place and move the new shit in. We finally got done around 7PM, and although most sane people would have called it a day, I decided to join Bear at the show.
The Boweevils used to be one of the greatest Chicago Punk Rock bands in the late 90's, and I used LOVE seeing them live. After the lead singer quit the band to attend Med School (seriously) the band broke up, but every so often they get back together for show or 2.
Man, drinking cans of shitty beer and having losing more of my hearing is a hell of a lot of fun. The show was at the Double Door which totally kicks ass - easily one of the best venues in Chicago. The place was packed which all sorts of people, including some really hot guys. You know, Chicago needs some sort of a gay punk bar...sigh.
That was another late night, and Bear and I didn't get back to my place until 3AM. Whew! All of Sunday was spent moving stuff around and cleaning my place. You have no idea how much cat hair I found hiding behind the furniture; I'm talking softball sized hair balls!
Despite how sore I am (pretty sure I did something really bad to my left shoulder as even typing hurts) it's totally worth it. Roomie has an awesome new place around the corner from me, and I get to walk around without wearing any pants. WOOT!
4 comments:
It sounds like you had a blast.. LOL.. So I guess after a few rum and cokes you turn into a "making out, dancing queen"..
Does this mean you will be going to Charlies in the future. Oh and it's not like I had to really twist your arm to go.. LOL
I like that you have a friend named 'Bear'.
i hope you are feeling better. this post makes me want to visit chicago again...it's easily one of the best city in the world.
Wish i was around for all the debauchery except for the vomiting. Just be thankful you didn't arrive at Charlies to early or you might have been coerced into a Line-Dance contest. Not that i have inadvertently been there alcohol-altered after a Pride Parade...friends encouragement was required. I always enjoy reading what you have to say Justin, you have an original,honest voice. And yes you..we..always deserve a BJ
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