eireann

I went out to Dave and Busters last night. The whole point of going was that it was a going away party for a coworker.

We drove to the other side of the world (the East side) because we supposed to be having a party for Jason, and last time we had a party for Jason, we made him come to our side of town.

Anyways... Jazzmyn and I rode to Utica, dashing in and out of the orange barrels that seem to outnumber the state's population 6:1. One day, I swear, they're going to take over our civilization like that Will Smith robot movie. We were... say, 2 hours late to the party. We got there, searched the entire place for them, and decided it was a good time to get a few drinks and some food for our belly.

A half an hour later, I'm three drinks in, and I see this kid that I went to church with a few years ago who I was in love with. He was a good friend of mine and the intern for the youth ministry. Now he's the youth pastor. Said hello, watched them play a funny shooting game, and then Jazzmyn and I had a few more drinks, made friends with the bartender, got a little pissed off because we couldn't find the 24 other people that were supposedly coming to Dave and Busters, namely our friend we wanted to say goodbye to. We started texting and belligerently calling to find out where these people were.

And then we raced. So, 4 or 5 drinks in, I'm doing this racing game, which I'm bad at anyways, and there's a kick at my chair, in which I told the person, I believe, "fuck off asshole," and resumed my attempts to get my car OFF THE SIDEWALK. I turn around and it's Jazzmyn's boss, and a person from the East side I've never met before. Then... they went home, mumbling something about having to work tomorrow.

Then we went up to the bar to chit chat with our bartender a little bit more, got a free shot, grabbed a beer, and walked over to play skeeball. Yessssss... I used to be really good at skeeball. I had this aunt who would save all of her change, and we'd go and play skeeball at this arcade for hours at a time. I saved up my tickets for little trinket things, like candy, or bouncy balls, or the glow in the dark bracelet things that we liked in our hyper-color phase.

So Skeeball has betrayed me from when I was, say, 11 and really good at it. I used to be able to get around 400 every time I played. Now, I was lucky to get the ball up the freaking thing.
I was getting frustrated, so I looked both ways, ran up the lane, threw my ball in the forty hole, and ran back down before someone decided to rat me out and I get publicly dragged out in front of, you know, the youth pastor of my parent's church.

Then again, it is a very good way to ask for prayer.
Back to skeeeeeeeeeeball. So, I run up and down the skeeball lane a few times, then decide I'm not in the mood to start getting kicked out of Dave and Busters, particularly if I'm going to get banned, because I'd like to go back. Especially because our bartender was awesome, my drinks were amazing and over half of them were free.
So, Dave and Busters closes at 1 am. Its now 12:45 and the east side kids are still drinking across the street, and Jazzmyn has to be at work at 9 am. We're on the other side of the world (Utica.... Brighton. Utica.... Novi. Utica to Waterford isn't bad, but I met Jenny at her house in Redford) and starting to get peeved. We cashed in our skeeball tickets for matching shotglasses and I bought a miniature dart shooter for work. I'm sure it will provide me with endless hours of entertainment, shooting the darts at whatever pleases me.
And then we cruised out of Dave and Busters, never seeing the people that we went there for, and only seeing two co workers.
ahhh delinquency...