More fun than most Tuesdays. Wrong.

Last night I believe I was Rufied.

My night started out as most nights start out for me:  I was going to do something awesome, and most likely get drunk and hang out with ladies.  I would hope all this happens drama-free; however, last night was not drama-free at all, or awesome at all.

Last night started at around 7 pm, I like to spend my days watching movies and writing, then I will watch more movies have a few beers and keep writing.  Then after I mill around the house for a bit I go out.  As Dan says “Time is your gift now”.  I was slated to play kickball and then “no excuses” go to the Triple Rock with Seaberg, and my ex gf Mollie Mc Freak.  Seaberg bailed on me and didn’t’ get me back, Mollie bailed on me because I am “a fucking unreliable asshole, and worst friend ever.” so this did not happen as I planned it would.

I received a call from Mollie around 3 pm we were setting up a time to meet up.  I was biking so I suggested we meet at the Triple Rock and go from there, I told her she had a place to stay, one base covered so far.

I took a shower and watched more movies, like, Full Metal Jack, and I attempted to watch Dances With Wolves, or whatever, I was back and forth through the park and to school trying to transfer and about to cry because the school keeps switching the Liberal Arts curriculum so that I may never graduate.  I don’t care.  I realized yesterday that I am going to do anything to be able to live off of my writing abilities.  I realize this is a dream and that I do have hopes, dreams, and goals.  So I am a motivated person, I just have to focus.  So as I am about to cry through the park I call Dan and regale him on my adventures of last night, he laughs, I call Bambi and she does not laugh, but rather complains, which is typical.  I care about these people though.

Dane calls me around 7 pm and tells me to get my ass to the field and come play.  I am on the way.  I turn off the movie, finish another beer, and then I grab my bike and my helmet and leave.  As I bike I discover a new path, which makes it even easier to get from my house to the field, I am super excited at my discovery.  This is why they call me Terry Magellan, and this discovery was not my first.  The field was crowded, I rolled up and locked my shit up as to avoid thievery.  I was wearing all black and I felt great, it was a very good kickball session.  I first noticed there were two girls there that I had never met before.  The first girl L, she was wearing a grey V-neck with boobs that literally almost popped out, insane.  She basically had a body that I am down with, I ignored her a bit, but she knew a lot of my close friends and I started a convo with her.  Everything was going smooth.  I kicked two doubles and scored two runs, I am a born athlete, do not fuck with my ability you will get proven wrong.  I then see another girl K, I had never seen her before, she was really pretty, cute in a way that screams I have a brain and I am fun to be around.  I found her easy to talk to and I felt things were going to take a turn for the better, good conversation, maybe a new friendship, something.  We discussed, as a group, where to go for drinks after the game.  Our team lost, it got dark, and there was a lot of talking, drinking, and laughing.  We first went to the VFW, I had a drink or two and sat between my new friends bullshitting.  Around 11 pm, or so Dane, L and K tell me to hurry up and finish my beer.  I put it down and put it down.  Bad idea.

The Triple Rock on a Tuesday, what a time.  Ah, the Triple Rock on a Tuesday.  Really, the reason I don’t go very much is because whenever I go, seldom, I have an extremely shitty time or I go home with a girl and get laid.  This night did not turn out with the latter happening.  Usually when I go to the Triple Rock on a Tuesday I am unable to get up the next day because I am dead from drinking.  This time I thought I was going to die.

I walk into the Triple Rock, it literally smells of Hipster Wannabes, it’s a place where everyone looks at you with noses turned up and girls love to turn you down.  I hadn’t been there in awhile and this time it was super ghetto, gangsters everywhere and ghetto chicks lurking.  I felt just fine.  I went up to the bar to make my first purchase, PBR, double fisting it.  I walk back and K gives me this look as if the night is over, she doesn’t want a drink and I don’t think she likes my awesome dance moves.  Fail.  About an hour goes by I lose one of my drinks to someone who is too broke to buy drinks at a dive bar.  I grab the one that looks like the one I was drinking and I down it.  About 20 minutes later I cannot talk.  I cannot look at people in the face.  I feel like I am going to pass out.  This morning I came to the conclusion I was drugged.  So, I am unable to dance.  I stand and stare, about a half hour after than I am dazed, Dane tells me that K is leaving and I should walk her to her car because she seemed into me, he says.  I run to the door, sort of stumbling, I found her and offered her a walk to her car.  I cannot talk at this time.  She says I am drunk we exchange contact info, or she got my number and offers me a ride back to the bar.  I nod and get in by crawling over the driver seat and rolling into shotgun.  I vaguely remember getting out saying something about tornados to her as she gives me this what-the-fuck-are-you-on-look and I piss on the sidewalk.  Somehow I lost track of time and don’t remember what happened from that time until 1 am and then I got a text from Dane asking if I left.  I did not, I came to consciousness and I am standing on the dance floor staring at the movie playing on the wall.  I don’t remember any real parts of the movie other than that it was about graffiti.  Dane texts me back saying that I should come to the Nomad.  I start my journey a little bit later I come to the conclusion I don’t know where I am going.  The Nomad is down the street 2 blocks from the Triple Rock, I have been her numerous times and I know this, this time I do not know this.  I am barely walking, stumbling, mumbling, and I ask for directions.  This guy that I asked explains to me that I am standing in front of the Nomad and that I just have to walk through the door.  I walk through the door and hand the bouncer my I.D. he looks at me and hands it back.  I smash my identification in my wallet and walk to the outside patio in the back where Dane and some other people were.  I do not recognize the people because I am unable to look up, I cannot focus and I am about to pass out.  Keep in mind I normally drink a lot more beers than this and I stay out way later.  I sit down and everyone asks me if I am okay, I say I am and that I just needed a seat.  I must have passed out and walked outside to sit on the curb.  I remember calling a taxi company and being asked what I want.  I tell them that I want a taxi obviously they say they do not know where I am and I don’t know where I am and they hang-up.  Nice.  I sit on the curb feeling like I am going to faint then my friends come out.  Dane and L ask me if I am puking I tell them I did not and that I want to go home.  We get in Danes truck and I come to at Danes house.  I fucking wanted to go home so bad and he brought me to NE where I will surely have to bike home from in the morning at least 5 miles out of the way, my house was way closer.  I don’t remember going to sleep, but I woke up on a couch.  On the table was a note that said:  Terry and Riley are on the couch.  Both got drunk and needed a place to stay.  For one I do not know a Riley and I did not sleep with anyone.  I woke up at 11 am in a basement apartment in NE Minneapolis.  I took a bathroom break and went outside.  I grabbed my bike from Dane’s truck, which was parked partially on grass and on a curb.  It was a great parking spot.  The door was slightly opened so I didn’t need keys to get my bike out of the back.  It would have been easy for anyone to take if it they wanted to, that is the second time I have not lost that bike to thieves.  Whatever.  On the bike ride home I saw an old co-worker and took in the fresh air.  I thought of what an ass I made of myself, and I told myself I would never leave my drink unattended again, ever.  I am going to take a break from alcohol and shitty bars I think, and write more became famous and rich so I can quit my job.  Dan told me I should become King Of Hipsters as a gimmick, I think I will just be king of everyone and everything.  Whatever.  It makes not sense to me how all this stuff happens, but really nothing happens.

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About Terry Scott Niebeling

Hello, My name is Terry Scott, a human being with flaws. twitter: @sirterryscott Buy my ebooks: http://www.amazon.com/s/ref=nb_sb_noss_1/191-4788099-1818040?url=search-alias%3Daps&field-keywords=terry+scott+niebeling
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