What do you do when you can't find the time to see your old buddies on a regular basis? When you can't get the "band" back together for a couple of drinks due to conflicting schedules (cough*girlfriends*cough)? You plan an elaborate trip to AC with all the guys, in the hopes that stories will be shared, chips will beget more chips, and the beer will flow. What follows after the JUMP is a visual "how to," so that you and your pals can have as much fun as we did. And then promise to never do it again the next morning.
Step one: Go to Hooter's and buy a pitcher of beer EACH. That's 6 pitchers. The waitresses couldn't believe us. My liver couldn't believe me. I was the last to finish, but I must admit... I was also in the best shape out of most the next morning.
You know those ole urban legend stories about kids getting caught in the escalator and their skin ripping off. WELL... just to let you know, that didn't happen down AC. What did happen is a female wearing the most elaborate snow boots since Lloyd Christmas stepped out of his lamborginhi in Dumb and Dumber, got her boot caught in the escaltor. The boot ripped off of her body violently as she screamed for help. She made the mistake of wearing the most eye catching socks this man has ever bore witness to, and she spent the rest of the night walking around with one boot. How do I know this? We passed her on the way back to Hooter's for our 2nd round of beer pitchers. I was the last to finish for a second time, for the record.
Jim had a rough night. He did a face plant while running after Phil on the sidewalk. He dusted himself off and picked himself up in time to flip off the car of people that asked if he was alright. After more man-wrestling, he eventually drifted off to Hoagie-ville. This was the point where we took everything in the hotel room that wasn't bolted down, and placed it on him. Phil said it was something like a game of "Human Jenga." When Jim got his second wind, he threw and crushed all the pieces of the game and went back to man-wrestling. Phil then proceeded to dominate him and throw him off the bed where he smashed the nightstand with his head. A bleeding hand and two head lumps later, Jim was off to sleep again and down for the count.
They made a movie about Room 1408. Well, the sequel would be called "Room 119, Lamentations of a poor maid". At 8 or so in the morning, Tom arose from his comfy spot in front of the radiator on the floor. He attempted to sidle out the door to throw up, but couldn't get it open wide enough due to all the chairs and debris we piled up in front of it. Foiled, he made the trek over me on the floor, fell twice, entererd the bathroom, yakked everywhere but the toilet... climbed over me again, and went back to sleep. I left a knit cap in that room. Hoagie left his face soap and contact solution. Tom left his dignity.
On Wednesday and Thursday of last week, I pulled a Wachovia double header by attending the Sixers' big win over the Magic and the Flyers' big win over the Sens respectively. There are no images of the first game (sorry Gary), but enjoy this tidbit or two from Game 2. The canned beer was a flowin'... and the gatherings in the smokey bowels of the Wach after the game were growin'.