it's 1:57 pm, on March 15, 2003 - willis, reprised.

~

Rewind:

The bar. Some disgusting dive bar where the ambiance and clientel all reaffirm the main pull -- eight bucks a pitcher. You're sitting against the back wall, wearing an Aaron's jacket while he goes outside to smoke a cigarette. There's a bunch of drunken girls sitting all around you. You know that it's Jesse's birthday. You don't know who Jesse is.

Will and Aaron come back -- not Aaron, Will's boyfriend, but another Aaron -- with an interesting story. Apparently, while trying to toast the night with Aaron, Will smashed his tooth. by accident. You're still wearing Aaron's jacket. There are still a lot of drunk girls around, except now they're trying to sit beside Will. Will, on the other hand, is trying to get them to give him another cigarette.

Fast forward:

You're being kicked out of the bar at midnight, the lights are on, the girls are all wandering around and crazy. Will is trying to convince you to sneak full beers out of the bar so that you can drink some more on the street, Aaron is leaving already with a glass of warm piss beer, and you're being herded to the exit.

On the street, Will is still bumming smokes. You don't know where you are, who you're with, or who you are. The best part of this is that you're so drunk, the fact that you don't know where you are isn't uncomfortable at all.

Pause: The Bourbon, which is the first bar you were at, is the same bar that you spent New Years at a few years ago. That time, it seemed a lot dirtier. This time, you're pretty sure, you were dirty too.

Fast forward:

You're at another dive bar, only this time there's food and more girls. The new blonde's name is Madelyne. You're still not sure what the old blonde's name was, but that's irrelevant now since she disappeared.

How you got from bar A to bar B is a bit of a mystery, but there was walking and you skipped the line twice. There had to have been a bouncer, someone, anyone, collecting cover or at least checking ids, except no one asked you. No one, in fact, has asked you for ID all night, save that afternoon when you went to boot for your sister.

Madelyne is hot. Whatever.

One AM comes around, and you're ready to go, however. Because no matter how much cleavage Madelyne has, her and the eight dollar a pitcher beer still means that you're in some dive bar, and you don't even know the name of this one. There's writing all over the table, but you can't even read it because your vision is a little hazy by now.

Will wants to steal more glasses of beer. This time Aaron grabs a full beer -- you have no idea whose or who bought it or whether it was aaron's, or if one of them just grabbed it off a table somewhere -- but now the three of you are outside and you still have beer.

All in all, not bad for a night when you didn't even have a wallet.

So then, fast forward for the last time: you're on the sky train, and you meet some guys because hey, it's friday night, everyone on the sky train is drunk and jolly. Danny knows Helen and Paris. You're so not surprised. You could use some more beer, except somewhere between the bar and the sky train someone threw the glass on the road. You think. Maybe.

So you're on the sky train, and talking to Danny, and all of a sudden some other gay boy started talking to you. His name? Nick. Nick comes back to the apartment, he thinks that both Christina and Justin are hot. You're sure that other things were discussed, but really, who cares. You don't remember anything else.

At some point, Aaron the boyfriend calls collect, but you're asleep and Will's asleep. Which means that at one point you went to bed and Nick went home. Some time. Some where. Since he wasn't still there in the morning.

Stop: the morning.

You wake up on Will's couch, that he found on Hastings. You might have actually been on hastings last night. Will says you were. You have to take his word for it.

Apparently, it was fun. At least beer was eight dollars a pitcher. Eight dollars that you didn't have to spend, couldn't have spent, and yet you drank at least too pitchers. Rock on.

~

The current mood of lisewilliams@geocities.com at www.imood.com

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