Saturday Night (Thankfully Not) Live

Those of you who know me know it for certain, and those of you who follow the blog have come to realize the simple universal fact that I am, in short, a super kick ass guy. Please keep this fact in mind as I take you through the eventful happenings of my Saturday evening.

The day began at a reasonable hour of around 2 o’clock, when I, desperate to go back to Bethune (god help me) because I forgot something, desperately went in search of somebody to accompany me on my voyage. This search took a total estimated time of 27 seconds. I messaged a friend who will be referred to as GhettoBoots, for his noticeable urban choice of footwear. Here’s a brief summary of our conversation:

Ving: Yo, you’re coming with me to York
GhettoBoots: Aight.

And with that, we were off. Traveling across town to my university was a calm trip without many eventful happenings. As usual we were judging everybody in the cars around us, because, quite simply, we are better than them. Our attention was briefly captured by two seemingly attractive girls beside us, and after readjusting our position to get a better view (cutting of an old man, and swerving two lanes) we realized that these two ‘seemingly’ attractive females were the sexual equivalent of Darth Maul, from Star Wars. The one on the left’s face looked like a connect the dots game, and I’m pretty sure the other girl was a Yeti. After a 20 minute drive we arrive, and I park. Illegally. The walk to the door was made all the more less enjoyable by the fact that it’s winter here in Canada, and I decided not to bring a jacket. I naturally assume that the weather gods will acknowledge my awesome-ness, and respect my decision by making it warmer, I, as usual, am wrong. Standing at the door, shaking from the cold, my hand fumbles around in my pockets searching for the rez keys. House keys, check, car keys, check, cellphone check, rez keys……
Rez keys……..
Rez keys…… FUCK!
I forgot the rez keys at home. I break the news to GhettoBoots, and he takes it well, ridiculing me, and judging me and my lifestyle choices on the way home. Stop for a 10 dollar burger, get home at around 3, do nothing. 4 do nothing. 6 do nothing. 7 nothing. 8 rolls around I convince my friend GoodFoot to come with me to rez. I do not tell him about my previous journey, but I am very careful to make sure that the keys are indeed in my pocket. Here’s a summary of our conversation:

Ving: Yo, you’re coming with me to York
GoodFoot: Aight.

We recruited one last friend to accompany us, AK47:

Ving: Yo, you’re coming with us to York.
AK47: nah
Ving: I’ll buy you food (I have a meal plan, with more money left on it, than I could ever spend)
AK47: aight.

And with that we were off. 20 minutes drive, and we arrive at our destination. I park. Legally. Approach the door, with keys proudly in hand, and let myself in. Uneventful trip upstairs, with my trying to contain GoodFoot into not screaming out my hot neighbors name while we’re upstairs, and we’re off downstairs to go get food. On the way down AK47 thought it would funny if he pressed the button for every floor. Unfortunately, he failed to realize that this doesn’t work, when you’re the only ones in the elevator. It was a long trip down. That is, at least, until around the 9th floor when they pushed me off the elevator, forcing me to take the stairs. I took the wrong set of stairs and ended up 10 floors below in the janitors basement, fully equipped with cobwebs, and messy residents corpses. After taking the stairs back up, then back down the right set, I find GoodFoot and AK hiding as far from the elevators as the lobby can allow, laughing. They informed me as to what was so funny, and I thought I should share it with you.

When I got pushed off the elevator, it continued to go down stopping at every floor, which I can only assume they found hilarious, because when they reached the lobby, they deemed it a good idea to press every button again before they got off. The gentleman and his female companion boarding the elevator did not find it so funny. He was furious. He yelled at them, called them names, accused them, and all rightfully so. AK47 decided that since GoodFoot is the one who pressed the buttons he would act as if he didn’t know him, and GoodFoot acted confused and astonished that this gentleman had the audacity to accuse him of such a crime. Even though he was the only one in the elevator.

My favourite part of this story however, came right after the man calmed down, and got in the elevator. Imagine this scene. A man, clearly larger than GoodFoot and AK47, finally calms down after yelling at them and gets in the elevator with his woman. The steel doors slam shut, and the two guys let out a sigh of relief. As they begin to appreciate the humor of the situation, the elevator dings, and the doors open, revealing the same man still standing in the elevator, staring at the the boys with a look of utter disgust and contempt. The steel doors slowly close again, and the elevator begins to ascend, stopping briefly at each floor. GoodFoot pressed every floor. Every floor including THE BASEMENT. This guy, pissed and embarrassed bringing his woman back to his place, gets in the elevator, and lets these little shits have it. Dignity entact, and manhood restored he boards the elevator. Goes down to the basement, where the doors open revealing teenagers doing laundry, only to close a second later, and then re-open revealing the assholes who took away your sense of self respect. He definitely is not getting laid tonight.

The rest of the day was rather uneventful, with the exception of the sudden and unexplained appearance of literally dozens of ‘hardcore’ gangsters, most of which were larger and darker than us. Naturally, we immediately packed up our food and moved to where they couldn’t shoot, I mean, see us.

Then the night really began. We picked up one more friend, Xzibit, with the following enticing offer.

Ving: Yo, [Xzibit], we’re gonna go sit in a parking lot and do nothing, we’re on your driveway, let’s go.
Xzibit: Aight.

God bless our leaders of tomorrow. And with that, we were off. Xzibit kept us interested with the promise of a party that a friend of a friend of his was throwing, while we sat and sipped bubble tea. I don’t want to accuse the owner’s of the establishment of any type of bias, but I was the only Caucasian present and we were seated at three different tables, being moved twice. Each time, closer to the door. We were very hesitant to leave, mostly due to the fact that there were two of the most beautiful oriental women sitting beside us, and we were enjoying the view. In fact we enjoyed it so much that we camped out right outside the Bubble Tea shop in my car, waiting for the girls to leave. Yes I know, we are sick, we are horny, we are desperate. but dammit if we aren’t persistent. The thing is, we missed them leaving, while we were traveling to another spot to get a less conspicuous view. DAMN YOU IRONY.

After that we all went our separate ways. GoodFoot, AK47, and Xzibit back to their respective houses, and me back to my dad’s house, where I spend every weekend, because frankly, I’d rather spend the weekend at the Neverland ranch than at Bethune. GoodFoot and AK47 are probably still playing Street Fighter (they’re Chinese), Xzibit definitely pumped a few out, probably thinking about my step mom, and I wrote this entry in my god forsaken blog.

Please note, this is not a typical Saturday night for me. My life is not this pathetic and sad, and I usually do something at least mildly entertaining. Next weekend we’re going Hogging. Unless I actually show up for my SAT test, which I still haven’t started studying for. I hope you enjoyed reading about my Saturday evening, because writing this thing is the highlight of my goddamn night.