It was 6:00AM, everyone but my friend from New York, Chris, was gone. The house was destroyed; beads, streamers, glitter -everywhere! Someone broke the couch in half. Another person cracked the stove top. What the hell happened?
I’m not completely sure, but what I do know is what we were going to do next.
I woke Chris up from his fetal position on the couch, “Yo, the house is DESTROYED. Wanna go to San Francisco?”
He blinked once, “Yep!”
So we pack up the car, drive the nine hours to Frisco and die. I mean, the first thing we did was find a hotel there and I passed the fuck out. Chris went out and explored the city. I just laid in bed, terminated.
I wake up about 9:00AM. Chris slipped out at some point to attend church services. I search the internet for things to do. I find out about this after hours club that’s open from 6:00AM until 2:00PM. Chris gets back from church.
“Find anything good to check out today?”
“Well, I’ve been researching things and it looks like we could spend a fun day at the aquarium or we could go to this club that opened up a couple hours ago.”
“Well, I ain’t got shit to do for the next 24 hours.”
Club it is! We pull out the unopened bottles of Hypnotiq and Goldschläger. I fill up my PIMP cup with juices and let the party begin! We start sippin’ and tippin’, jumping up and down on the bed, me still in my prom dress from two night’s prior and pink wig. We come up with the brilliant idea to take a shot of Goldschläger and chase it with a shot of Hypnotiq, put that on repeat about five times and let the good times roll. What ensues is Chris and I robbing the mini fridge of the baby bottles of Tanqueray. Dirty mits!
We check up out of that hotel and burst into daylight! What a thrill it is NOT to walk up those damn hills sober, but drunk? Just like a summer breeze, keepin’ it easy!
We stumble down some hill and run into these tourists that were carrying American flags and wearing goofy hats. I wanted to know immediately what this situation was about.
“HEEEEEEEYYY!! You with the hats! What’s all the American flags and crazy hats business about?”
“We’re actually coming from the Veteran’s Day parade!”
”Oh, it’s Veteran’s Day? I didn’t even know! Chris, did you know?”
Chris has no idea what is even going on.
“Heyy, can my friend and I wear your hats and you take photos with us?”
“Yeah, that’s totally fine.”
I grab the flag so fast and wave it with every patriotic bone in my body.
We give them back the hats.
“We’re actually on a scavenger hunt and we’re looking for a specific cathedral.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about, there’s a church looking building over there. It’s probably that!”
We take off prancing through China Town. I make it about three blocks and I realize I’m still waving the flag. Oh well, too far to turn back now!
We stop for some dank-ass dumplings and a few drunk dials. Then we fall into the lap of this club and just like any good kitty, we let it stroke every inch of our party consumed bodies.
The bouncer checks our idea, “You know this club closes in like an hour, right?”
“Yo, chill shawty. We’re here to party and that’s just what we plan to do!”
Chris heads straight to the bar, orders us mid-day drinks, and I start raving in the middle of the dance floor with the American flag. We became best friends with everyone on the dance floor and had a photo shoot of our own in the lounge area. I found some girls jacket and Chris wore it out of the bar like a champion. We stumbled out onto the streets, hailed a taxi, and drove off with peace signs in the air to Haight-Ashbury. Chris and I somehow lose each other.
I end up in some store and purchase a tank top dress meant to be worn to a rave. Then I walk into the art supplies store and purchase $20 worth of glitter. Chris and I cross paths as I exit the art store, but he has a new add-on.
“Where the hell did you get that tail?”
“It’s cute! You like it?”
Of course not, but I support every single one of his life choices. We hail another taxi, head to this bomb-ass Italian restaurant that he told me about, have the dankest meal ever, and embark on the journey to find the car.
Officially sober, we get in, drive over the Golden Gate bridge, drive back over the Golden Gate bridge, and head south to Santa Cruz to visit my dear old friend, Mike. We get to Santa Cruz, Chris passes the fuck out, I stay up, eat a bowl of ice cream, and watch the episode of SNL when Rihanna premieres her song Diamonds, set to the weirdest, trippy-ass background, which leaves all of us confused.
Chris wakes up and we head back on our overnight nine hour drive back home.