Trashed

Not really. I'm sober enough to be writing this, so I'm a'ight. What a freakin' night.

Meg talked me into meeting her at the local truck stop for a (homework) late nighter. When she used to live up the road from here, we used to meet there all the time, grab some coffee, have a salad, and immerse ourselves in our own little academic universe. The Stop 3 Travel Plaza is not an upscale place by any means, but we don't have the luxury of swanky joints like Starbuck's in South Henry County, Indiana. I mean, this place is so bad that there used to be an entire wall of dead animal heads, which used to freak me the hell out. (I'm glad they retired those in recent months.) The waitress we had last time admitted to us that she had just gotten out of jail, and lord knows we did NOT ask any questions. I like to think that our mere presences add some kind of class to this joint when we're there. I know I'm right or people wouldn't stare at our papers and books like they're WMDs.

So anyway. I agreed to meet Meg there at 9:30pm, even though I had to point out that I think she's flipped her lid for doing homework on a Friday night at the Stop 3, for crying out loud. And the fact she talked me into it, too, is nuts. So I ordered some chicken strips and onion rings (which gave me massive heartburn) and she sipped on her coffee, looking like a total yuppie in her tan corduroy jacket, striped shirt, and cargo pants. We tried to work but realized we were missing components to our individual assignments, so we decided to go have a beer. Actually, I coaxed her into letting me use her Blockbuster card to rent a foreign flick I have to watch for my class by Monday, and in exchange, she demanded that I go with her to have a beer. That's how that worked.

Captain Jack's was formerly the Port Hole, which = skanky joint for skanky locals. I did NOT want to visit this establishment this evening for a myriad of reasons. 1. I look like a librarian tonight, with my hair pulled back and my cream sweater coat draped around me. 2. I have no desire whatsoever to see the rest of the class of '98. 3. I feel like mierda. 4. My husband has to be at work at 4am. (In fact, his alarm just went off; yay, I made it home in time!) 5. I have no cash. 6. I really don't want a hangover. 7. I'm too old for this crap. 8. I smoke too much when I drink. 9. I feel like all the other losers there when I'm there. 10. The conversation is somewhere between, "Heeeyyy!!!!" and "Whaddup?"

And so, here are a few fascinating things overheard at Captain Jack's:

"Word up."

"Last year, I was a baaaaaad monkey."

"Would you get off my pussy lips?"

"That fucker there, he dressed like he gonna preach a sermon or sumtin."

"Yeah, I'm sorta attached right now. I'm not droppin' any names cuz he's a married man. But he's gonna git a divorce pretty soon."

"I wanna diet tequila." (Spoken by a guy we graduated with who used to be really hot but is now pushing three chins.)

And to top it off, I sat in the corner under a deer head inscripted with the name, "Buck."

Oooohhh...my head is POUNDING...