The drunken madness was uneventful. I had to keep myself from walking into walls I knew I was going to walk into anyway, but after a few bumps on the head and drunken giggles, it didn't faze me. The coffee I drank at 6:00p.m. last night was supposed to ensure my staying awake for the "dropping of Dick Clark's balls." (Anyone who watched New Year Rockin Eve knows what I'm talking about.) The caffeine worked, though perhaps a little too well. No sleep. No Sandman. Not even a titter.
I played Mario Kart(tm) until 3-ish, when I was interrupted by a ringing cell phone (DO NOT GET ME STARTED WITH THAT.) Then I tickled my best friend until we were offically rendered "uncomfortable" with all of the unnecessary touching. (We hate things like that.) I retreated back to my room and laid restlessly by the glow of the television. "Roseanne" is kind of hard to fall asleep to. Her voice isn't exactly lulling.
Hunger struck around 5:00am, but alas, Full House was on and it was just too damn good to leave the room. So I stayed, hungry and frustrated until 11:00a.m., when the rest of the house awoke. My first words?
"I want pancakes."
So we venture out. IHOP should be "International House of Patience," since that's what you need for an hour of waiting for the actual pancakes.
So we go to Denny's. No one actually likes it there, but it's ALWAYS open. They may have slightly decent pancakes (cold and doughy-Mr. Subliminal.) And the parking lot itself was a nightmare. In the words of my brother, the driver, "Fuck that."
It's all about Price Chopper, baby. We'll make our own. We're humans. We can fend for ourselves in the face of danger. Or in this case, the face of hunger.
Have a lovely day.
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