1 pm, Tuesday.
The cellie is flashing "M".
Oh hey, it's my boy Mike from Portland...
Oh, snap! It's his parent's house in the 925...hold up...he's calling from the Yay?
"Sure, don't tell nobody you're here. Just drive down 10 hours and don't tell me...I'm not hurt or anything...really."
I give Mike shit, but it's good to hear his voice. I ask him what he's up to...kayaking and is in Walnut Creek, just hanging out before the High Sierra Music Festival...
Ah, this means that we will be hanging out with Ms. Megan...and so the plans unfold.
Our little triad makes the cross-phone calls...I'll meet them at Megan's house. She's making frozen tiki bevvies and Luau pork and we're going to play Scrabble. I have played it but 4 times in my life before.
Will he kick my ass? Most people kick my ass at board games...
I let my ego at the door.
I would be playing Scrabble with two of the finest word geniuses I have deep affection for. Plus we'd be having Tiki drinks. And I would be asking for more rum, please.
What's not to love?
We cackled the night away. I talked MUCH shit during my Scrabble game and ended up winning.
Past the midnight hour we played and among the rum mirth we decided Monsters, Inc. was a good cinematic distraction...to fall asleep to...
We all crashed...like little kittens...me on the couch, Mike in the papasan, and Megan was the only one intelligent enough to actually claim the bed.
I woke up ridiculously early for my class the next morning, but after plenty of water the night before, the Tiki bevvies were but a memory, a pleasant memory of the joy of being a little tipsy in the safety and comfort of friends.