Actually, I live in Clawson, Michigan, in an apartment. But, just recently, I have had second thoughts about my criss-cross placement in the Universe.
I ate a Thanksgiving dinner yesterday, a day later than most. While I was there, I snuck shots out of an Absolut Citron fifth in my car, rendering said fifth a near-carcass.
That ain't Pleasantville. Listen:
I went home after gorging myself with stuffing and belated-turkey and yams and potatoes and blah blah.
On the way back to my apartment, I picked up another fifth of Citron. And some O.J. (But not the murdering O.J.)
Here it is, Internet: I ended up drinking two fifths of Absolut Citron yesterday. And I feel fine today.
But. But that still ain't Pleasantville.
Before I get to Pleasantville, let me please let you in on a little secret: I have King-Kong on my back. Whew! There! Done. But there are varying manifestations of the Beast. One manifestation is Beer-All-Day. The other manifestation is Hard Liquor. Like vodka.
But, still, not Pleasantville.
Here is Pleasantville:
When I drink hard liquor, especially two fifths of said slop, I tend to get forgetful. I woke up this morning wondering to where my cell phone had wandered. "Ah, it'll turn up," I told my run-down self. And I took my boy Outside to poop.
On our way back into the apartment, I glanced to my right. I saw, in front of my sliding door wall, a glass of orange juice--slathered with vodka, obviously--and my telephone. My cellular telephone. And? Nestled up against it was my month-old digital camera, a $300 purchase. And they had been there ALL NIGHT.
Welcome to Pleasantville. May I recommend the downtown shopping district?
A cell phone and a digital camera, on a table, Outside, all night long. And the next day they're still there. Amazing.
But. But, it gets better. It truly does. Earler this afternoon, I scrounged around my apartment, looking for my wallet. "It must be in the car," I said to Lou. Lou blinked at me and licked his nether-regions. "Thanks for your help, dude."
I walked outside and started towards my car, a 2002 Ford Focus hatchback. My gaze took in the grass and the parking curbs and I noticed something familiar on the ground: 'Twas my wallet. On the ground. Out in the open. With $82 poking out.
I live in Pleasantville. May I recommend the downtown shopping district? And if you need to eat, go to "Curley's Diner." The man is a mean cook.
To summarize: In my drunken obliviousness, I left my cellular telephone, my $300 digital camera, AND my wallet with $82 sniffing the grass, Outside.
And NOBODY TOOK ANYTHING. (Nor would I have, but....)
But. welcome to Pleasantville. May I recommend the lobster bisque?
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
4 comments:
I like your neck of the woods Adam...I lost my wallet at the grocery store and didn't fare as well....the lost wallet in the september archives.
Ouch, Adam. Seriously.
You might not feel bad in the morning, but two fifths has got to be perilously close to alcohol poisoning. And that is really scary.
You are very lucky that you didn't have anything stolen....I'm coming to live where you live;0). Also, it is amazing that you were able to drink all that citron and not have a hangover...I need your secret on that one ;0)
Melissa and LilMiss--two fifths is equivalent to a case of beer. It's called abnormally large tolerance and it's also called being somewhat--okay, a raging--alkie. That's my secret...wanna try?
And that will be the topic of my next 'blog--Drinking (cue the dramatic music).
Post a Comment