I had this huge long post that I wrote about the other night, and how, if my life were a play, it would have been the end of act one because all these ends tied up nicely but there was this ominous feeling of temporariness around the whole situation. It was four pages, single spaced, so I decided against it.
That's a lie.
I got lazy and didn't post it and now I feel it's rather archaic.
But last night, oh last night. Let me paint you a picture:
It started out pretty normal. We went out. Because you have to go out Thursday nights. It's just how things ARE around here.
On the way into the city, we got kicked off the bus. I'm not sure why, and it obviously couldn't have been all 15 of us, but I do know that at least one of our group was asked to leave so we ALL got up and walked off in a proud line that was not just necessary because of the narrow aisle on the bus.
I usually like to hit the Wash kinda for a drink, but mostly because I have a crush on one of the bartenders there. But no one else wanted to go there last night so I went by myself. It was super sneaky too - I waited until we went through this big crowd that always forms around this one atm and then I doubled back.
I know it may not have been the best idea, but it was early enough in the night, and I knew a couple of our friends were in the bar across the street that I felt safe about it. Also, a little bit thrilled.
And let me tell you, it was SO worth it! We had a conversation. It went like this:
"Yep?"
"Can I get a bullmers? ... BULLMERS?"
"yea"
"Thanks!" *smile*
(later)
"Hey, can I get a water?"
"water?"
"yea" *sheepish smile* "thanks"
Sigh. can't you just FEEL the connection there?
And last night, oh man oh man. When I was done with my water glass I pushed it further in on the counter and he took it and said "cheers!"
Yes, it was a magical night.
Then there were more shenanigans at a club or two that finally ended in with me and my three roommates standing in front of Hillbilly's (THE most in late night greasy dining in Cork city) shocked and appalled at the line. Then Meg goes "this is ridiculous. We're going home and making our own Hillbillys."
I think we intended to cook french fries, but there was also left-over pasta, chips, salsa and guacamole, toast, Nutella, and I don't even know what else. It was epic. It was just a bunch of us sitting in the kitchen, busting at the seams from all the food and all the laughing as we re-hashed and re-re-hashed the night until 4 am. It was absolutely ridiculous, but it has now been cast in the golden light of a cherished memory.
But I'll tell you a secret. I woke up at 10 this morning before any of my roommates were up and walked into the kitchen to make some tea, but when I saw the absolute horror of a mess we made last night, I turned around and closed the door to my room and pretended to be asleep until I heard one of my roommates cleaning up. Shh!
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