Eyes barely open, I turned my stiff neck in both directions, trying to get a grasp of where I was and maybe some answers as to how I got there. I was in the drivers seat of my father expedition.The air inside the SUV was stale and smelt of potato chips and vodka. My head pounded in pain as I tried to shield my ears from a car alarm barking loudly in the distance. How did I get here? I was in a shared Walmart/Steak n’ Shake parking lot. Judging from the sun and the amount of people out, it was defiantly not early morning. With my aching eyes I searched for water, as any moisture from my mouth was on my shirt in the form of drool. I looked to the passenger seat expecting to see Jt also drunk and covered in drool… he wasn’t there. I pressed my face against the drivers side window, in attempts to see if I had run him over… he wasn’t there either. I let out a drunk growl, “Jayyyyyteeeee”. From behind me I heard a bearish like moan. I turned to see Jt stretched out on the backseat. His shoes were off and he had a stack of newspapers covering his face.
- Me: Yo, how did we get here?
- Jt: (having trouble pulling the newspapers off of his face) Bro, I don’t even know where we are. Where are we?
- Me: In a Walmart parking lot. What do you remember last?
- Jt: I remember getting going to the barber shop and eating that chicken.
- Me: Jt, that was three days ago.
- Jt: Oh. Yeah. I don’t know then. What time is it?
- Me: I can’t find our phones. I think it’s the afternoon though.
- Jt: You were driving you don’t remember how we got here?
- Me: I remember leaving the club, getting in the truck and then pulling over at a gas station so you could throw up.
- Jt: I threw up?
- Me: Ha yeah. I took a bunch of pictures. I might have recorded a video of it.
- Jt: Why is it that whenever you come to Florida or I go to New York this happens?
- Me: I don’t know. It feels like Ron Jeremy is sticking his dick in my brain right now… my head is killing me.
- Jt: You think we’ve been sleeping here for a while?
- Me: Yeah. You wanna eat Steak n’ Shake?
- Jt: Yeah.
We both feel asleep in Steak n’ Shake and I threw up in the bathroom. The next 24 hours were spent recuperating. During my recovery bits and pieces of the night have come back to me.
- Jt shot the owner of a the club for a magazine cover earlier that week and that’s how we got on the list for the grand opening.
- We got all access passes and had all of our bottles comped (I kept telling people I was Carson Daily).
- Our bottle service girl said we had a mutual friend and she reads my blog. I slapped her tush as I said, “you’re a smart smart girl.” She smiled.
- We drank multiple bottles as I invited little ghetto girls up to VIP to dance on the sofa.
- Jt’s phone died and he used my phone to get the numbers of the little ghetto girls (currently saved in my iPhone is, ’sweet pea the MIA dancer’ and ‘Lil Kay dat freak from Philly.’
- I tried to steal some football players bottle of Patron… his posse saw me and almost killed me.
- I poured orange juice on some fat girl that fell asleep on the sofa.
- I laughed the at the fat girl.
That’s all I remember for now. I’m sure more will come back to me in the coming days.
Still dizzy,
Daniel Dickey
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