That’s me. I’m drunk. I am also waiting for a slice of pizza. It’s late at night, and the night still isn’t over.
That’s Big Johnny, the person who was responsible for me being there… both at that pizza place specifically, and in the Bay Area in general.
Assuming that you have been following along with the other posts in this series, you know that there was a big party celebrating John’s birthday, down in Oakland, at a warehouse that makes beer. After everyone else went home, Johnny, and that guy on the right, a friend of John’s whom I had just met, decided to Uber to a bar in nearby Alameda. It was my very first Uber ride ever. I am not sure if I am supposed to use the name of my new friend, but I loved that guy!
yeah… more beer… like I hadn’t already had enough.
Also, we showed up smack-dab in the middle of ‘zombie crawl’, where a bunch of people dressed as the undead were going from bar to bar.
I can’t read that sign, and I can’t remember what the bar was called, but we had fun.
We had a lot of fun. In fact, we had so much fun that there were two photos that Johnny asked me not to put here. He doesn’t look like he is having fun, but that is a look of momentary shame. HA!
You thought I was kidding about the flying dog, but that dog clearly has wings, and I met him… so…
The night drew to a close, as nights will.
We reminisced about the good times, getting older, life in general, and drinking too much, specifically.
After some pizza slices, a fiasco at a a German bar, and another Uber ride, Big Johnny and I were on BART… that’s: Bay Area Rapid Transit… and on our way home… and this is where I was accidentally a racist…
After Johnny got off the train to transfer to the San Francisco line, this group of young African American guys got on the train. There was something about the way they moved… like cats, or like a trained combat unit… and scoped out the car like they were sizing us all up… that made me take notice. And then they pulled out a boombox and put on a dance show that blew our minds. I mean, they all seemed to be double-jointed, and they did stuff that I can’t explain. I wish I got the camera back out faster.
Hey, I am not proud of my momentary nervousness, but I am honest about it.
Pouring My Art Out 
I was expecting you to have had Flying Dog Ale at some point during the evening, but an actual flying dog is even better.
I would never resort to such crass trickery!
Oh, and wouldn’t you have had the same reaction if it was a group of white youths?
Yes, I really would have.
Then you’re not racist…you’re youthist.
get off my lawn!
Sod off grandad!
young ne’er-do-well… rapscallion… knave… varlet… upstart… guttersnipe… whippersnapper…
Your fancy words don’t scare me; I’m immortal!!!!
no… you are immoral… there is a slight difference… or did you mean infertal???
Can I not be all three?!
Maybe, but not for longer than 8 or 10 minutes I bet
That’s all I need
love is all you need
I do get hungry though…perhaps I need bacon too…
well, do you love bacon?
My name’s Trenton, and I’m a baconaholic…
You are what you eat, Mr. Hammy!
Ham is not bacon!
Don’t try to tell the pig that.
Granted, they do get tetchy…
If you were a walking bacon depository, you might be a little paranoid too.
That’s one way of looking at it I guess…
I only look at things one way… you know that…
… why is infertal not a word?
But it is…you’ve just used it!
That only holds true after I am in charge of the whole planet… then I will be making up words all the time.
Still going for that job are you…
oh yeah
So I think I know what’s going on in the photos big Johnny didn’t want posting…
I bet you don’t
Nothing to do with the guy’s shirt being open?
That’s exactly what I was thinking – it’s quite obvious that they were all butt-naked just moments before that picture was taken.
I was going down the nipple sucking route in all fairness, but I wouldn’t put anything past a bunch of drunken yanks!
I bet the nipple sucking was just the start.
Just after the facial hair tickling I’d warrant.
Slightly jealous I wasn’t at this party, actually. But I see no trampoline pictures, so it couldn’t have been that good.
I’m completely jealous if I’m honest, so the only way I can make myself feel good about it is to bad mouth its participants and agree to sad lack of any trampoline…though that is an extremely valid point.
Yeah, I feel the same, unfortunately. And they look like great guys, too – check out the beard on the big one. What I wouldn’t give for a rummage around in that. And the open shirt dude is pretty awesome too. Pah. We shall have to have our own drunken escapade and put it all over the internet.
Yeah, something impromptu and ad hoc, maybe even spontaneous…let me grab my diary…and this chap here with the beard! I say! Come back squire!
You two would have to climb him like monkeys on a tree
That’s exactly what we’re after! Oo oo!
…ooo000ooo…
I am IN. Hey, he could at least leave the beard behind!
Stuff him, I shall grow my own! I’m a big boy now!
we want pictures
No one’s interested in seeing my beard.
maybe when it has two hairs in it
I have a field with two hares in it…
Is that what the cool kids are calling those nowadays?
Bloody good show, old bean!
Thank you, I’ve bean practising.
Oh bravo!
bravissimo, even
he juggles his beans
And she…..no I can’t…
well, you shouldn’t
I’ve gotten lost…
great… because I was following you
Then you definitely are as mad as a box of frogs
it makes me hoppy
he is known for his bloody beans…an old family recipe
You would need it to hold on to…
Oh yes indeed!
oh my
sigh
I promise that, when we meet in person, I will do to you what John just finished doing in that one picture.
I have it in writing
yup
we don’t need no stinkin’ trampolines!
Oh, you should try the trampoline. Really.
I will watch you first
Well… I wouldn’t usually encourage an audience, but as it’s you…
I think people would pay to see that… in the right outfit… ha!
An outfit! That’s what I am missing!
Catholic school girl outfits are quite popular… for jumping on trampolines, I mean.
Good idea! I shall try it out.
Charge five pounds sterling per head… uh… so to speak. And it is all about volume. Remember the old trampoline adage: The smaller the thong, the bigger the throng!
I didn’t realise trampolines had adages – by my, am I glad they do!
One does not want to appear on a trampoline without at least one adage.
Duly noted!
and newly doted
I mean, I’m no fashion expert or anything…
Maybe it is best that I left it to your imagination… maybe…
I wouldn’t if I were you, that Lucy has a wild imagination!
and you don’t
…maybe…
uh huh
hey now
It was a near miss with a tongue… not a lick or a suck…
Yeah yeah…
That isn’t exactly right.
I am unsure.
me too
shhhhhhhh