We headed back to my friend’s luxurious studio apartment on the 15th floor of a high rise in Philadelphia. Which was fun, because I’m deathly afraid of getting stuck in a metal elevator (Sidebar: not a clear one, just the metal deathtraps, where you can’t see where you are in an emergency, and which will surely mean you will die in an enclosed metal coffin.)
With a 6 pack of Smirnoff Ice’s in hand, I was excited to use a bottle opener for the first time in my life. No dice. Twist off cap, but at least I was able to show off my brute strength as I used the bottom of my t-shirt to rough up the bottle cap. I immediately took a swig and everyone was right. This was Sprite. Delicious, alcoholic Sprite. I’m pretty sure I went through Smirnoff Ice 1 in less than 10 minutes, followed by number 2 in another 30. I was starting to feel buzzed, but I didn’t want to get drunk, so I stopped.
Within the hour I felt an insatiable urge to eat meat in hamburger form (another contributing factor could be that we were watching Top Chef) and asked my friend for the closest fast food restaurant. It was 3 blocks away, but she wasn’t sure if it was open, so I called them and they were. We made our way down there, me not being able to walk as accurately as I would have liked to. When we got there, the Wendy’s looked akin to any fast food restaurant in any city. Workers who don’t care, long lines and scary people. I ordered a burger and chicken nuggets (5 pc) and walked away with a burger and chicken nuggets (4 pc). I was quite angered by this. This is probably how Wendy’s makes their money, shorting drunk folks on 1 nugget per order.
We got back to her apartment, ate our food, watched Season 1 Episode 1 of Party Down and then fell asleep. I woke up at 6 AM, so I could save $3 by leaving the Parking deck by 7 am. After paying $16 to be parked for 8 hours, I headed home to NJ, accidentally woke the parents up and told them I had had my first drink, so that they would be the first to know.
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