MC Jake (thecatalyst) wrote,
MC Jake

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"I'll be honest, I don't know shit about cars"

There are few sensations quite as puzzling as the one that accompanied me when I woke up in my room to find an unconscious Ellen Creal to my right, and an equally down-for-the-count Ed from Wixom sleeping next to Heather Walter on the futon directly across from me.

It’s been a pretty random 24 hours.

My initial plan for Saturday was to waste away the day until Ellen called me, at which point I would drive with her to Ann Arbor for yet another party that sold itself as “clothing optional.”

I somehow ended up in Mt. Pleasant with Ryan, Melissa, and Ed, contemplating whether or not to blow 55 dollars on third row Killer’s seats, or blow 55 dollars on slot machines and a “wow this kind of tastes like rubber and antibiotics” Buffet. To protect the innocent and those who may regret their decisions I choose not to reveal which path we ultimately chose.

Either way the lead singer was wearing a suit that apparently had all the properties of a disco ball and a laser show. How do I know? Well because Terrence from Okemos was kind enough to tell me after I ran into him and was practically assaulted on the spot.

There was some sort of commotion going on in the parking lot after the concert let out…and by commotion I mean a solid hour and 15 minutes in which not a single car moved. This naturally led to car-to-car synchronization of “The Killers” songs as well as the exchange of some punishingly potent Bacardi between Ed and me. While he claimed to not be feeling anything, I am fairly confident that this little amount of alcohol galvanized a partying spirit within Ed that made him determined to reunite with the bottle at some point in the night. Originally we had planned a group field trip to Ann Arbor until Ryan learned that he had to work the next day, in the true spirit of a 45 year old man.

Entirely too long of a story cut entirely too short:

Ryan took me home. Ed and I hit my brand new pipe and somehow made it to Ann Arbor in under a half hour. Ellen refused to pick up her phone, making the new objective of the night to “find ellen at all costs”. She seemed to be dead, missing, unconscious, or all of the above until I learned that she was actually sitting three feet in front of me, trying to contact me from the middle of the street by waving her arms and screaming into the phone. Ed had in depth phone conversations with the following people:

Merry Shao, Sarah Schwartz, Lindsay Richardson (who was too busy modeling herself after a homeless person and getting some “god damn free bread” at three in the morning from Jimmy Johns), and everyone’s favorite sporadic party participant, Kelsey Herritty.

Kiel showed up later and joined us on the porch of the house that I actually don’t live in yet but apparently decided that I have porch privileges to regardless. Walnut Street is a big communal playground.

Next morning walked with Ellen, Heather Walter (who I am pleased to admit doesn’t suck, at all), and Ed to Frank’s Diner…again. It was a nice little U of M reunion with every member of Lyndon street minus Ari/Nicole, with the additions of Ed, Me, Deiter and Heather. Steph was as loveable as I remembered her being.

Ed got his credit card cancelled, Heather puked in a trashcan, and we all reached a mutual agreement that it had a been a very random night.

Drove Ed home, hit the giant yellow bowl again, realized that we had inadvertently ended up behind Ellen on the highway, who wasn’t really sure if the highway she had chosen would take her to Wixom or the random city that heather had to be in by 4.

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