last night at beginagains ii

It was a very good night for stories.

During our game of Cricket, I turned around and noticed a guy I recognized playing Silver Strike 2BILLION with his lady friend. I still get overly excited when I see someone out and about, but I think that’s because when living in Missouri, I couldn’t go buy tampons at Wal-Mart without running into at least half a dozen people I knew. In any case, I jumped within 3 inches of Jenni’s face and was all “DUDE! I know that guy!”.

Turns out, it was my roommate’s boyfriend from my days in Eden Prairie (September 2002 – July 2003). The kid was a nice guy most of the time, definitely a few fries short of a Happy Meal, but overall pretty decent. Anytime my old roommate and this guy weren’t fighting, he was living with us. So, you know, we ran into each other pretty often.

And, in fact, the day before Thanksgiving in 2002, I had to help his girlfriend pull him out from under her bed. He came over completely drunk and somehow climbed underneath her bed. I would have left him, except he was puking all over himself, and when he’d try to sit up, he was smashing his head into the slats on her bed. See how nice of a person I am?

I’m so nice, in fact, that I had to dig up a picture of him. And the only one I could find where someone else wasn’t visible was this one. We’d stopped at a gas station on the way home from a bar, where we were celebrating my 25th birthday. He decided he needed the latest issue of Penthouse and this is him, standing in the hallway of our apartment building, licking the centerfold.

We exchanged a few awkward glances, but neither one of us had the balls to actually approach one another. So, sorry James, that we didn’t reminisce about old times. I wanted to and then I realized that overall, you aren’t really someone I want to hang out with nowadays.

To be fair, here’s me from that same night, with a side-by-side comparison of earlier this week:


One Comment

  1. Robin

    Thanks for the laugh, I didn’t really want to remember that night. I am so embarrassed even reading this. I’m sorry I forced you to live with James B. Square Pants.

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