Part I -- Prelude to absurdity

Another legendary evening last night. Certainly not of birthday proportions, but man, if this story is not blog-worthy, I don't know what is. Not even because it was that much fun - I am pretty embarassed about the whole situation, but it's just too funny.

Club Sectionals was supposed to happen today. The organization for this had already been a shitshow - one kid who was supposed to get a rental car ended up getting shitty early on that night, we hadn't handed in the proper travel paperwork the school makes us fill out, and the number of people going had just increased by a dozen or so, making our two teams quite overstaffed.

After a spate of Chinese fire drills and driving around campus for an hour or so, we were finally ready to rent cars. Cars rented, emails sent, we looked completely ready to go, despite the plethora of ways that we should have, by all right, failed. Given that I was going to have to cram 5 people into my Accord coupe, I decided that I finally needed to empty all the useless shit out of the back seat and trunk. This included the four winter tires that came with the car. So here I am, having just lugged four goddamned tires from the parking lot by the Mammogram bus into City Hall, and having finally cleaned out my car, when who calls but Mr. Ben Tufsky, who informs me that the tournament has been canceled by the owners of the fields.

At this point, given all the shit work I had done to make Club Sectionals happen, given all the frustration about the rental car debacle (for which, of course, we still had to pay despite the cancellation), and given the fact that I had just lugged shit back and forth from my car for the past hour, the call that started it all went out at 11:27 -- "Hey Gigabyte. I've made an executive decision to get shitty."

The idea was put forth to go to Shoppers' in Alexandria to get some refreshments and bring them back to Gigabyte's place to have a small, clown-less get-together. So Bagels, Gigabyte, and I all drove out to Shoppers', where the employees told us we had basically two minutes to buy all our stuff. Apparently, Virginia law prevents liquor sales after midnight. So we sprinted to the back of the store, where the booze is at, and started throwing shit into the cart, Supermarket Sweep style. The aisle on the way back is being remodeled, so it's the autobahn of booze buying. Bagels is hauling ass with the cart, careening all the way up to the checkout line, and we're told it's too late. I try to reason with the manager, but she was having none of that, so I whipped out my cell phone and started gesturing wildly, exclaiming that it was clearly 11:54, and the state law does not take effect until midnight. I am told that the check-out system is programmed to stop accepting liquor purchases at 12:00, but that the clock is fast and therefore I can't buy anything. At this point, I am livid, and we leave disappointed, with me vowing that I would never again return to that Shoppers' Warehouse location. We'll see if this lasts.

Once again, we're looking for ways to conduct damage control. Gigabyte and I are making lots of calls, telling people to amass their reserve liquor in anticipation of this evening. The simmering ire left over from the cars and Sectionals planning combines with the vexation with the Shoppers' establishment into a maelstrom of desire to get revenge on the circumstances. I will not be denied.

12:23, we're back in D.C. We've got a bag of random liquors from Tufsky, my remaining Stolichnaya and Woodchucks, Gigabyte's reserves, some beers from Pete, and assorted other what-have-you. The party begins, mostly composed of refugees from another party where the girls failed to work the tap properly, resulting in a severe alcohol deficiency. It begins.

--stay tuned for part II--