A couple of friends and I drove to Columbus this past weekend for a friends birthday. The proximity of a Taco Bell/Pizza Hut, UFC 106, Jameson, and very accommodating sleeping space really made the trip quite enjoyable. We went out to a bar with a $5 bracelet deal. The deal was a few bucks off some drinks and access to a food table. This was the food table:
What a spread! The lights on the left side screen was a skee ball machine. I didnt have any quarters though. The beer special included Busch and Molson Canadian Tall Boys. It wasnt ideal, to say the least, but it sufficed. Towards the end of the night, we found a 3am bar. Everyone was wearing their stupid red Ohio State jerseys and screaming about the God Damn Rose Bowl. I stumbled to the dance floor just in time for Time of Your Life by Patrick Swayze, a masterpiece that truly made me miss my imgross colleagues. I am positive that at that exact moment, Senator Robert Byrd (350 miles away in Chicago), alone in his study, stood up from his desk, went over to his window, and starred at the moon. He had a sudden reckoning that the world was beautiful.
I snapped back to reality when Swayze quickly and seemlessly transitioned to Chingy. I found myself broken off from my friends, alone on a dance floor at some bar in Central Ohio. I didnt know where I was or where to go next but I did know one thing: the imgross way is the only way.
It was a
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