08/22/2005 - 4:03 p.m. | cookier devilries

Saturday night, I had to work, abandoning any plans I could have had, as well as the best scoring game of 3D Space Cadet Pinball I ever played (Incidentally, that whole �3D� part of the title is bullshit � unless the ball flies out towards my face, pinball is a wholly two-dimensional game). As some faggot once said, what a difference a day makes. Campus had gone from ghost to boom town in the space of about 24 hours. Suddenly I can�t even find a parking space, and I�m having to dodge packs of drunkos as they leap into the street in front of me. Deliveries were slow as ever, but we had a ton more walk-ins, and it was kind of weird, because they were all Champaign people. Champaign girls, even, a group to which I am just not very exposed in day to day activities. They are so naturally flirtatious, it�s crazy! Like, it�s me and James working there � I would consider neither of us prize pears � and still these Champaign hotties be all, �We�ll come back later when we�re drunk, tee hee!� James sets more in store by this than I, but it was still rather strange. Plus, it is like trying to tell Asian people apart! This one girl came in, and I was like, �Weren�t you just here?� �Uh, no?� Guess it was your exact Champaign clone doppelganger then, hmmm? Mostly I still sat and played Mario and ate �fancy� cheese bread until closing time, at which point we blasted �Since U Been Gone� on repeat, frightening off any potential customers who may have tried hassling us.

To kill some time (and because I love it), I was reading the hot-off-the-presses �Booze News� for the week, and they kept talking about the huge differences between freshmen and seniors. Come to think of it� I am a senior now, aren�t I? :O Well, that is totally not right. I don�t look like a senior � they were talking how big and mature all the seniors are, and I look like maybe a freshman with a growth spurt at best � and I haven�t really done enough collegey shit to warrant status as a senior � never been anywhere tropical on spring break, never hooked up with random people at parties, never had alcohol poisoning � and I sure as hell don�t feel like a senior, but my four years is almost up. That�s� terrifying.

Work was done at 1, and no one would be home, and I didn�t have anything to do, so I went to Geo�s for the end of karaoke. Allison could use a ride home anyway, right? Am I just making things worse? I�m trying to be a good friend here, but maybe it�s coming out more like I�m a tease� Anyway, I had a Coke and observed the drunkos dance and sing (An amazing inept performance of �Beyond the Sea� � also �La Bamba!�) and played one of those damn touchscreen trivia games. I beat the high score in entertainment by like times three. That sort of thing is very important to me. I watched as that cretin in the Pink Floyd shirt who sang �Clocks� came up and moaned �Stupid Girl� (I also watched as the crowds faces turned ugly as they heard this rendition) and eventually went on stage myself for a lackluster version of �Long December.� Here is a hint, friends: Do not sing karaoke sober, as you will be able to hear all your imperfections very clearly.

Last call came and went, bar closing came and went, and still people remained. I sat in an isolated position and watched people stall as the waitstaff grew more and more agitated. I was perfectly fine thinking about cheese fries alone or whatever, but suddenly this absolutely giant man comes over and starts talking to me. �My friends call me Tweeter,� he says. �Is that �cause you like music a lot?� �No?� Off to a good start then, gents! It was actually very nice of him to come over and make conversation. He constructs for a living � walls, specifically - so I got to learn about that� as well as some advice for you engineers out there (�Spend some time in the field because otherwise you don�t know shit!�) He did not like engineers very much. He talked about shooting a nail through two of his fingers and how because it was a �flanged� nail (OK, I made that term up) that it could not be removed �the easy way.� The briefest of clouds passed over his otherwise jovial expression when discussing the �trouble� he got into that earned him 55 hours of community service. I thought it wise not to ask. Then we took turns admiring the �Girls Gone Wild� ad up on the big screen TV. See, I can fit in when I want to. �Um, yes� I would love me a piece of� that� ass�?� I guess he was there on Shelly�s pre-birthday, as he mentioned thinking he should help the �(no offense) little string bean guy� carry Shelly out the bar. Oh, poor Spritz.

He went away, and eventually everyone was gotten out the door (following The Mystery of the Missing Salt Caddy, of course), and it was time to leave. Oh wait � not yet! It was Carl the bartender�s birthday, I guess, so he�d been cruising around town in a limo, just getting fucked out of his gourd. I always thought he sort of disliked me, but the second he spotted me, he was like, �HEY! IT�S MY BEST BUDDY!� and gave me big ol� hug. He was wearing denim overalls and a white undershirt stained with� something (vomit, chaw?) We talked for a while, and guess who was with him? The beast monster who thinks I am Rivers Cuomo! So she starts in on that again, and her boobs were just awful, and everyone eventually notices my car (oh god), so I just start handing out ribbons to keep everyone appeased. We made it out, though, and I dropped Allison off and came home to a totally depressing, empty house. Hooray, Saturday night.