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Hey fellas, long time no talk.
So, a couple weeks back, our homeboy comes home from the Navy for good. Dude did four years, came home, and was like, "Alright, well, I got unemployment until I land a gig, so I'm just gonna relax and kick it a bit."
He'd been a devout North Jersey'er our entire fuckin' lives, and whenever I'd even mention the word Philly to this cat, he'd fuckin' gag.
I extended my typical, "Hey man, come get down in Philly; we'll make sure we fuckin' tie one off real good" invitation, and I'm sitting here expecting a flat, "Nah, fuck Philly, bro." But for whatever reason, homeboy was like, "Alright, yeah, let's boogie."
Now, this particular friend is one of those dudes where--and mind you, I'm not saying I'm NOT still a fuckin' hoodlum--but he's one of those dudes that just always takes shit to an extra level. Like, I eat with plastic utensils around this kid because honestly, half the fuckin' time I don't know whether or not things are gonna go the way of an old knife fight.
So anyway, he comes out, and we really fuckin' do the damn thing. For like, 14 hours, we're just tossing shit back and going crazy and having fun, and being trash humans. I should also mention that one of the reasons I love this particular homeboy like I do is because he and I could go years without seeing each other, and when he's around, we pick things up like noting happened.
So, we shut down the last bar we're at, call an Uber, and roll back to our place. Now, when I say we're trashed, I mean we're fucking trashed. To give y'all a little perspective on just how trashed we all are, my housemate (Adam, who I've known since I was a little baby), was in the Uber with us, and somehow, by the time we got back to the house, Corey and I forgot that Adam had come back in the same fucking Uber with us, and we thought we accidentally left him at the last bar. Mind you, fellas, that this fucking dude was in a car with us literally 2 or 3 minutes prior to our confusion. I was just like, "Oh fuck, we lost Adam."
So, I go to grab my phone and text him, and realize that it's gone. And I'm like, "Ah fuck, I must've left it at the bar or whatever." I call it using Corey's phone, and a dude picks up. He explains that I left it in the back seat of the Uber, and that if I wanted it back--my own fucking phone--I was going to have to pay him $200 for it.
I put him on hold real quick, and I tell Corey what's going on. I pitched him my idea, and he doesn't give a fuck and is down for whatever, so he's just like, "Yeah, fuck it. Let's do it."
I unmute the phone, tell the Uber driver how grateful I am that he's so graciously giving me the opportunity to get my phone back, and that $200 was more than fair for my drunken stupidity. He tells us where to meet him (a very public street in this particular neighborhood in Philadelphia, where he was silly enough to think I wouldn't wyle the fuck out because of fear of cameras or cops or passersby or whatever), I give Corey back his phone, and Immediately walk upstairs to grab my gun.
Now, just so I'm clear and so no one tries giving me the business for it, I have a concealed carry license out here, and at this point in my life, I'm too fuckin' old and have literally nothing to prove to anyone about how tough I am. My little single stack glock fits right in my tight-ass skinny jeans, I throw a flannel on over it, and I'm good to go. My only rule is that I'm a fuckin' knuckle head when I'm drinking, so I NEVER bring it out to the bar. This was a special set of circumstances, and far as I'm concerned, this cock sucker got everything he had coming.
So I get up there, grab my shit, we order another Uber to go meet the other Uber to get my shit back, and we show up about 10 minutes before this guy. I'm still smoothing him out with the dumb drunk apologetic guy schtick, and I can just imagine his cock sucker frothing up at the idea of an easy two hundo.
He rolls up, gets out of the car, and confidently strides over like that dude in every bar who thinks you won't hit him because you're under surveillance; the sly little "I got you!" smile on his face and shit.
He comes up, we shake his hand, and now, I don't pull the thing out and point it at him. And I'm not about to say I brandished a weapon at this man or anything like that, but somehow or another, he found out I was carrying. I demand he gives my shit back, and as he does, Corey politely helps himself to his wallet. He doesn't take anything, but he does grab the dude's ID and snaps a quick photo of it. I hadn't even thought of doing that.
Cock sucker starts walking back to his fuckin Hyundai and I stop him and ask if he has any bottles of water or anything. He then proceeds to give us each a bottle of water and apologize for the inconvenience.
And for those of you saying I could have just filed a complaint with Uber, I say: "Eh, you might be right. But what's the fuckin' fun in that, right?"
Oh, and Adam? We went to bed thinking he was fucking dead, because even when we got my phone back and called and texted him a million times, we got no answer. So Corey and I are just sitting on the couch at like, 4 in the morning, thinking, "Welp, rest in peace, I guess."
... Turns out, when we got home, Adam, the drunk fuck, Irish goodbye-ed us and left without saying good night. Dude just went upstairs and passed out. We found him at 11 o'clock the next morning after we all woke up. He had zero fucking clue that any of these events even transpired.
So, a couple weeks back, our homeboy comes home from the Navy for good. Dude did four years, came home, and was like, "Alright, well, I got unemployment until I land a gig, so I'm just gonna relax and kick it a bit."
He'd been a devout North Jersey'er our entire fuckin' lives, and whenever I'd even mention the word Philly to this cat, he'd fuckin' gag.
I extended my typical, "Hey man, come get down in Philly; we'll make sure we fuckin' tie one off real good" invitation, and I'm sitting here expecting a flat, "Nah, fuck Philly, bro." But for whatever reason, homeboy was like, "Alright, yeah, let's boogie."
Now, this particular friend is one of those dudes where--and mind you, I'm not saying I'm NOT still a fuckin' hoodlum--but he's one of those dudes that just always takes shit to an extra level. Like, I eat with plastic utensils around this kid because honestly, half the fuckin' time I don't know whether or not things are gonna go the way of an old knife fight.
So anyway, he comes out, and we really fuckin' do the damn thing. For like, 14 hours, we're just tossing shit back and going crazy and having fun, and being trash humans. I should also mention that one of the reasons I love this particular homeboy like I do is because he and I could go years without seeing each other, and when he's around, we pick things up like noting happened.
So, we shut down the last bar we're at, call an Uber, and roll back to our place. Now, when I say we're trashed, I mean we're fucking trashed. To give y'all a little perspective on just how trashed we all are, my housemate (Adam, who I've known since I was a little baby), was in the Uber with us, and somehow, by the time we got back to the house, Corey and I forgot that Adam had come back in the same fucking Uber with us, and we thought we accidentally left him at the last bar. Mind you, fellas, that this fucking dude was in a car with us literally 2 or 3 minutes prior to our confusion. I was just like, "Oh fuck, we lost Adam."
So, I go to grab my phone and text him, and realize that it's gone. And I'm like, "Ah fuck, I must've left it at the bar or whatever." I call it using Corey's phone, and a dude picks up. He explains that I left it in the back seat of the Uber, and that if I wanted it back--my own fucking phone--I was going to have to pay him $200 for it.
I put him on hold real quick, and I tell Corey what's going on. I pitched him my idea, and he doesn't give a fuck and is down for whatever, so he's just like, "Yeah, fuck it. Let's do it."
I unmute the phone, tell the Uber driver how grateful I am that he's so graciously giving me the opportunity to get my phone back, and that $200 was more than fair for my drunken stupidity. He tells us where to meet him (a very public street in this particular neighborhood in Philadelphia, where he was silly enough to think I wouldn't wyle the fuck out because of fear of cameras or cops or passersby or whatever), I give Corey back his phone, and Immediately walk upstairs to grab my gun.
Now, just so I'm clear and so no one tries giving me the business for it, I have a concealed carry license out here, and at this point in my life, I'm too fuckin' old and have literally nothing to prove to anyone about how tough I am. My little single stack glock fits right in my tight-ass skinny jeans, I throw a flannel on over it, and I'm good to go. My only rule is that I'm a fuckin' knuckle head when I'm drinking, so I NEVER bring it out to the bar. This was a special set of circumstances, and far as I'm concerned, this cock sucker got everything he had coming.
So I get up there, grab my shit, we order another Uber to go meet the other Uber to get my shit back, and we show up about 10 minutes before this guy. I'm still smoothing him out with the dumb drunk apologetic guy schtick, and I can just imagine his cock sucker frothing up at the idea of an easy two hundo.
He rolls up, gets out of the car, and confidently strides over like that dude in every bar who thinks you won't hit him because you're under surveillance; the sly little "I got you!" smile on his face and shit.
He comes up, we shake his hand, and now, I don't pull the thing out and point it at him. And I'm not about to say I brandished a weapon at this man or anything like that, but somehow or another, he found out I was carrying. I demand he gives my shit back, and as he does, Corey politely helps himself to his wallet. He doesn't take anything, but he does grab the dude's ID and snaps a quick photo of it. I hadn't even thought of doing that.
Cock sucker starts walking back to his fuckin Hyundai and I stop him and ask if he has any bottles of water or anything. He then proceeds to give us each a bottle of water and apologize for the inconvenience.
And for those of you saying I could have just filed a complaint with Uber, I say: "Eh, you might be right. But what's the fuckin' fun in that, right?"
Oh, and Adam? We went to bed thinking he was fucking dead, because even when we got my phone back and called and texted him a million times, we got no answer. So Corey and I are just sitting on the couch at like, 4 in the morning, thinking, "Welp, rest in peace, I guess."
... Turns out, when we got home, Adam, the drunk fuck, Irish goodbye-ed us and left without saying good night. Dude just went upstairs and passed out. We found him at 11 o'clock the next morning after we all woke up. He had zero fucking clue that any of these events even transpired.
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