Monday, June 12, 2006

The Cost of Evil: $3.09

There are nights in our lives that will forever live in infamy. Friday night is one of them.

The night as a whole was a great time, nothing like having bar nachos for dinner at 6pm and then going on a wheat beer marathon with friends & coworkers...

And then closing down the bar.

The Jilted Love Monkey and I were toasted out of our minds. After being kicked out on the street by the bartenders, and waiting for a call saying 'Yes, I'm on my way to pick you up,' from a friend... it was time to make a decision.

Jilted Love Monkey decided it was time to find a hotel, 'Don't you think that would be a great time?! We could split it 50/50, even share a bed!'

Music to my ears since I've been trying to make out with her since I met her...

But where's the nearest hotel? I thought it was the Embassy Suites. She wanted to be sure...

There were cops and Iowa State Patrol in the street, lights flashing, we were oblivious to what was really going on. . .

'I think it's over there ::points::...Wait! Let's ask these cops! Ok!'

So we stumble, hand in hand, to an Iowa State Patrol car, the troopers just about to close their doors....

'Hey! We need to go to a hotel! We need to know where the nearest hotel is?! A Nice one, not some fleabag it the Embassy?'

Hah, his eyes got all wide, he looked us up and down, and then nodded his head 'Yes.'

(You guys are lucky they didn't arrest you for public intoxication! haHa! The true crime would've been to prevent the fantasy going on in that trooper's head. . .)

We stumble off...OMG that guy totally thought we're lesbians! I just laughed, I was too drunk to care...

(Jilted Love Monkey is the straightest chick I know...::sigh::)

Finally! We're picked up at a bus stop 2 blocks from the bar!

But wait, it's 2:30am, we're wasted...

We're hungry!! Pull over at the next gas station!

Usually the post-bar-I'm-really-wasted 'meal' consists of something Greasy, and/or something requiring heating in a gas station microwave...

As I wobble and try to focus on the cold case with the various sandwiches in plastic, deciding which is the least disgusting, I hear the Love Monkey off to my left squeal, 'HOT DOGS!'

At the time, it was a FABULOUS idea. I looked at those weinies turning on their rollers and I saw SALVATION. This is what I saw:

This is probably what they really looked like:

Love Monkey started to go on and on...'Where's the CHILI!? There's supposed to be a machine where you push the button and chili comes out, I WANT CHILI.'

In addition to the hot dogs, I, in all of my drunkenly infinte wisdom grabbed a bag of Spicy Pork Rinds. Chicharonnes Caliente.

And with that purchase I pushed the button that would make me just like that chili machine.

::Ahem:: You get the idea...Pepto & Aspirin have never been so precious to me.

Of Course, a night like this will spawn:

The Best Text Message Ever:

Cravin greasy burrito . . .wish you were here! whoo HORNY


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