Yesterday was laidback until about dinnertime. I forgot to mention this phone call I made to Prima on Thursday night.
“Hello.”
“Mi princesa, it’s Andrew!
“Hey!!! What’s up?”
“Not much, Jack and I are just hanging out and figured we’d call to see how you were doing since we haven’t seen you in a while.”
“Who?”
“Jack and I.”
“Who you with???”
“Jack.”
“Who’s Jack?!”
"Jack!"
"Jack???"
“Um, Mr. Blondie?”
“MR. BLONDIE!!! TELL HIM I SAY HI!”
So this led to a plan for last night night which evolved from dinner-out to drinks-at-a-bar to aperitivo to ultimately pizza-and-poker-at-Prima’s. Jack, whose real name Prima apparently doesn’t know and whose hair isn’t even blonde, and I went over there with Liz and one of her friends. Prima, Helen, and Juan were there waiting for us and Marissa eventually got home from her job interview with the owner of Loch Ness.
The pizza wasn’t amazing but the sriracha Jack carries in his backpack(?) helped it along. It was the only delivery number we had available. Good thing we had booze.
Apparently Liz and I cannot be friends in terms of pop culture. She hated Brokeback Mountain but loved Troy? AND she hates Billy Joel but loves Hilary Duff??? Since my mind was warped by this and I wasn't interested in the discussion of Troy (i.e. Brad Pitt's ass and pits), I went upstairs to the terrace to watch the others play poker and eventually subbed in for Prima. I had brought cards but not chips, so we used beans for currency. [Insert offensive Mexican joke here.]
Eventually Marissa, Helen, Jack, Juan, and I went to Angie’s Pub to get more drinks. Aneet and Jess met up with us there. Prima stayed home, and Liz went home to do crunches while listening to the Lizzie McGuire soundtrack because she’s lame. (I love Liz. Really. I tease because I love.)
You know in Peter Pan how you need a happy thought to fly? Apparently Marissa was badly in need of one last night, so after striking out twice I was able to offer a successful one: Brazilian booty. As in, the kind we’ll see tonight when we go to Maracana. Apparently Marissa is also a fan of those firm, healthy cheeks and “just wants to bite them.” I’m not making any of this up, by the way. I’m not that creative.
Eventually I walked Aneet and Jess to get gelato so Aneet could satisfy that third of her gelato-diet coke-Nutella food pyramid. (“Oh my God, you guys. I went up a whole size from a double zero to a ZERO!”) And then I went with them to Twice to do a little dancing. Aneet batted her eyes at the bouncers who let us in through the smoking lounge door rather than make us wait thirty minutes in line to get through the front door.
I left a little earlier than them and on my way home ran into the others at Salamanca, but we didn’t stay long at all and went home. Helen called me “smug boy” since I live six seconds away and was smirking as they planned their routes home.
“Hello.”
“Mi princesa, it’s Andrew!
“Hey!!! What’s up?”
“Not much, Jack and I are just hanging out and figured we’d call to see how you were doing since we haven’t seen you in a while.”
“Who?”
“Jack and I.”
“Who you with???”
“Jack.”
“Who’s Jack?!”
"Jack!"
"Jack???"
“Um, Mr. Blondie?”
“MR. BLONDIE!!! TELL HIM I SAY HI!”
So this led to a plan for last night night which evolved from dinner-out to drinks-at-a-bar to aperitivo to ultimately pizza-and-poker-at-Prima’s. Jack, whose real name Prima apparently doesn’t know and whose hair isn’t even blonde, and I went over there with Liz and one of her friends. Prima, Helen, and Juan were there waiting for us and Marissa eventually got home from her job interview with the owner of Loch Ness.
The pizza wasn’t amazing but the sriracha Jack carries in his backpack(?) helped it along. It was the only delivery number we had available. Good thing we had booze.
Apparently Liz and I cannot be friends in terms of pop culture. She hated Brokeback Mountain but loved Troy? AND she hates Billy Joel but loves Hilary Duff??? Since my mind was warped by this and I wasn't interested in the discussion of Troy (i.e. Brad Pitt's ass and pits), I went upstairs to the terrace to watch the others play poker and eventually subbed in for Prima. I had brought cards but not chips, so we used beans for currency. [Insert offensive Mexican joke here.]
Eventually Marissa, Helen, Jack, Juan, and I went to Angie’s Pub to get more drinks. Aneet and Jess met up with us there. Prima stayed home, and Liz went home to do crunches while listening to the Lizzie McGuire soundtrack because she’s lame. (I love Liz. Really. I tease because I love.)
You know in Peter Pan how you need a happy thought to fly? Apparently Marissa was badly in need of one last night, so after striking out twice I was able to offer a successful one: Brazilian booty. As in, the kind we’ll see tonight when we go to Maracana. Apparently Marissa is also a fan of those firm, healthy cheeks and “just wants to bite them.” I’m not making any of this up, by the way. I’m not that creative.
Eventually I walked Aneet and Jess to get gelato so Aneet could satisfy that third of her gelato-diet coke-Nutella food pyramid. (“Oh my God, you guys. I went up a whole size from a double zero to a ZERO!”) And then I went with them to Twice to do a little dancing. Aneet batted her eyes at the bouncers who let us in through the smoking lounge door rather than make us wait thirty minutes in line to get through the front door.
I left a little earlier than them and on my way home ran into the others at Salamanca, but we didn’t stay long at all and went home. Helen called me “smug boy” since I live six seconds away and was smirking as they planned their routes home.
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