Take the Money and Run

          I was somehow late again today, though not as drastically as yesterday. Still, no one has commented, but I'm expecting a talk soon if I don't become more punctual. I swear that I'm trying. Once again, my coworkers invited me out for drinks after work, but again, I had a previous engagement. Iris and I shared dinner and a talk, which went moderately well. After more than enough soul-searching, I left to meet Johnny at Conor Larkin's. We ran into Wyatt, who was accompanied by Evan (a friend of Johnny's, out celebrating his birthday) and Avri, a friend of Evan's who can be described as "45% likable." We drank a couple of rounds and shot some pool, during which I teamed with Johnny and carried us in a narrow loss. Evan and Wyatt also dropped a close game against some guys who could be called pool sharks in fairness.
          I proposed a move to Wally's, and we walked over to find it predictably packed. A Latin jazz/salsa outfit was jamming out and patrons of all ages were tapping fingers and feet. I killed a gin and tonic, Evan threw back a birthday Jagerbomb, and we stuck around to listen for a few minutes before squeezing out. I'd love to return to Wally's, but getting in early and grabbing a seat is probably a must if comfort is a concern. New York Pizza was mere moments away, so I refueled with a simply massive slice of Hawaiian pizza before continuing. We then returned to Conor's for another round, telling jokes and paying mild attention to the Ravens/Steelers game.
          I had reached full Bukowski mode by this juncture, and was up for anything. We decided to go to the Fens to smoke at the war memorial, and did so. Evan gave "an address to the nation" and Avri broke a stone bench via sheer idiocy, which pissed off me and Wyatt to no end. I'm no superpatriot, or even really a patriot at all, but disrespect for a memorial for war dead crosses a sacred line. Who's going to fix that? Probably no one. Johnny and I went back to his place on Huntington for another session and a long chat about the Supreme Court. I took too long getting home and ended up locked out for the night (my keys have been missing for a few days.) In a strong contender for one of my most uncomfortable nights ever, I napped on the floor in our lobby with a stone step for a pillow. Mercifully, Sean woke up around 4, saw my text and let me in. I can sleep practically anywhere, but that was dreadful.
          Quotes of the day:
"My hips just don't move that way!" - Catherine
"It's not luck, it's intuition." - me, re: Abner calling me lucky for never standing in line at the bank
"Andy, this is just like the Death Star trench run, man." - Wyatt
"We got a fucking think tank going on over here." - Evan
Looking at the Pru...
Me: "Rangers colors!"
Johnny: "Or 9/11."