Barbarella wrote:
*riiiiiips bong* so I get the vibe that some of y'all enjoy my stories, so let's get down to it
alright kiddos, gather round for the riveting tale of my life surrounding this car
which I like to call The Toyota Pizza Wagon
Do me a solid tho, don't copy or share this anywhere - I may wanna use this at a storytelling gig.
Part 1 - and I swear on Jane Fondas long and fruitful career, that this is the stone cold truth.
Let's travel back in time, to 2015 - I'm a junior in college and I've just moved out of the dormitories and into my first house, my family lives 212 miles away, I'm on my own, drinking too much, experimenting with drugs, and making really hilariously stupid choices regarding men. Now is the time for housewarming parties, throwing down, rippin' it up, hundreds of people in and out of my house who I may or may not even know (wow, pre-covid times sound wild now). Sabrina, my roommate at the time has a June birthday, so that is when we plan our real housewarming party. She warns me, "really weird or bad things always happen on my birthday." Weird and bad? I'm fuckin' sold, let's do this thing.
Our town is dry, meaning you cannot get alcohol here, so Sabrina leaves to go on a liquor run with her friends, who I did not know the names of. I take my first hot shower in my new house (you see, the dormitory we previously lived in always had cold showers, so this was a treat). I get out of the shower, put my overalls on halfway, and I open the house up big to air it out (we had no AC) and dry my hair off outside.
Almost as soon as I get outside, this shitbox van pulls up and an older man gets out (he was 48 at the time, but I swear he looked closer to 60). He walks up to me and says, "Hey man....can I park my van here?" bruh who are you?? but yeah sure, go ahead. Upon realizing I had no fucking idea who he was, he asks me, "isn't this where Jamaicas birthday party is tonight?" who the fuck is Jamaica? I literally had no clue. But there was a birthday party there that night... And it was in that moment I realized who he was, old hippie dude, creepy van, burnt out and confused, expecting me to just know him? We'd never officially met but I'd definitely heard stories about Bob! (I later learned that Jamaica was the friend who took Sabrina to the liquor store, and it was indeed her birthday too! Also, Bob ended up living in that van in the driveway for a long ass time, he paid parking rent in acid)
alright kiddos, gather round for the riveting tale of my life surrounding this car
which I like to call The Toyota Pizza Wagon
Do me a solid tho, don't copy or share this anywhere - I may wanna use this at a storytelling gig.
Part 1 - and I swear on Jane Fondas long and fruitful career, that this is the stone cold truth.
Let's travel back in time, to 2015 - I'm a junior in college and I've just moved out of the dormitories and into my first house, my family lives 212 miles away, I'm on my own, drinking too much, experimenting with drugs, and making really hilariously stupid choices regarding men. Now is the time for housewarming parties, throwing down, rippin' it up, hundreds of people in and out of my house who I may or may not even know (wow, pre-covid times sound wild now). Sabrina, my roommate at the time has a June birthday, so that is when we plan our real housewarming party. She warns me, "really weird or bad things always happen on my birthday." Weird and bad? I'm fuckin' sold, let's do this thing.
Our town is dry, meaning you cannot get alcohol here, so Sabrina leaves to go on a liquor run with her friends, who I did not know the names of. I take my first hot shower in my new house (you see, the dormitory we previously lived in always had cold showers, so this was a treat). I get out of the shower, put my overalls on halfway, and I open the house up big to air it out (we had no AC) and dry my hair off outside.
Almost as soon as I get outside, this shitbox van pulls up and an older man gets out (he was 48 at the time, but I swear he looked closer to 60). He walks up to me and says, "Hey man....can I park my van here?" bruh who are you?? but yeah sure, go ahead. Upon realizing I had no fucking idea who he was, he asks me, "isn't this where Jamaicas birthday party is tonight?" who the fuck is Jamaica? I literally had no clue. But there was a birthday party there that night... And it was in that moment I realized who he was, old hippie dude, creepy van, burnt out and confused, expecting me to just know him? We'd never officially met but I'd definitely heard stories about Bob! (I later learned that Jamaica was the friend who took Sabrina to the liquor store, and it was indeed her birthday too! Also, Bob ended up living in that van in the driveway for a long ass time, he paid parking rent in acid)
Later that night when the party was raging and Sabrina was good and drunk, not only did we realize we'd inherited a party house, based on several guests we didn't know telling us about how they'd partied there for the past ten years, but Sabrina also realized she'd been in that house at those parties, we signed a whole ass lease on a whole ass house without her ever realizing that she'd been in it before.
Part two coming up in my next comment
Part two coming up in my next comment
Have a snack and a chat while you wait