The Hangout had a big outdoor music festival tonight. It was in their parking lot. There were about four or five bands, including one of the Friar's and a good local covers band. Apparently there was an entry fee, but I just walked right in. That's the way to stick it to the man, who in this case is my friend Mr. Hangout. Oh, he doesn't mind.
I drank and listened to the rock and played video games with the Friar and K (haven't seen her in a while!) and even 74, who is never allowed out by Zaftig, joined us. I also briefly saw Gunner and Waitress T. Oh, and Skullfuck, the city's least funny comedian, introduced the bands, throwing off some truly atrocious one-liners. Example: "If you lose your virginity tonight, check in the lost and found bin." Seriously, he sucks.
74 and I, quite plastered by closing time, shared a taxi home. As the Friar said, "A cab is cheaper than a DUI, and I'm the one who'd be representing you for free, so get in." He was right, too. I've gotten into the habit lately of driving under the influence. Not definitely drunk by any means, just perhaps a tiny fraction over the edge, enough that I might flub a gross motor skill or two if a cop pulled me over. Tipsy enough that when I get home, I kind of wonder if it was a wise idea. Yes, I know. Bad habit.
What with all the cigarette smoke --- especially including all the times 74 exhaled smoke into my face to distract me as I beat him in virtual golf --- I feel like I breathed in about the equivalent of a pack of cigarettes. Yuck.