A Night I’ll Remember
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Original - Misc › Non-Fiction/True Stories/Autobiographical
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
4
Views:
1,880
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1
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Original - Misc › Non-Fiction/True Stories/Autobiographical
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
4
Views:
1,880
Reviews:
1
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
This is a work of non fiction. Where possible - and where appropriate - permission has been granted from any people or their descendants to be included in this story. The Author holds exclusive rights to this work. Unauthorized duplication is prohibited.
Part One
A Night I’ll Remember
Part One
It had taken forever to organize for some extremely strange reason. We were seven teenagers on holiday figuring out when we could get together and get drunk. Should’ve been a lot easier than it was. We had had to reschedule three times already… sorry, that’s wrong. I had to tell people that no it couldn’t be that day, because so-and-so had to visit family that day and then tell them ’oh, false alarm’ half-an-hour later. At the end of it all, I had given serious thought to punching a hole through the wall, the only thing stopping me is that concrete tends to hurt ones hands quite a bit.
But now it was all underway. Thanks to the magic of mobile phones and text messaging I had 8 different points on a mental map telling me where each of them were coming from. Me, sitting on a station; Louise taking the underground over to rendezvous with me; Lea sitting in a café getting something to eat before going out; Theresa her usual 20 minutes late, probably 30 minutes today considering that she was bringing the boyfriend; Patrick and his two friends (had I even met them before?) had probably only just finished a bottle of wine and were realizing they should have been out the door 15 minutes ago if they were to be at the bar at the agreed time. I knew my friends, so I had agreed to pick up Louise at the station at the same time I was supposed to meet the others at the bar – they wouldn’t be there for a while, anyway – and then swing by the café to pick up Lea (possibly letting Theresa and her boyfriend join us there, if they somehow came approximately close to the agreed time) and then head over to the Machiavelli to begin the evening properly. I had, after all promised Louise that I’d teach her how to drink properly.
A light buzzing alerted me to a new text message: “I’m on the subway now. I’ll be there in 3 minutes =)”
Louise. That girl was simply too fascinated by smilies, I had to say. I used the occasional smiley to convey whether something was ironic or not, but… well, I just thought it was too much, okay?
2 minutes, 38 seconds later the doors to the subway opened and a confused girl stumbled out looking for me. With me being rather tall, this would’ve normally been an easy task for her, but as it happened I had chosen to sit down. After a moment of appreciating how adorable she looked when she was helpless, I got up and walked over to her.
“Hey!”
I hugged her and answered: “Good to see you! Long trip here?”
“About 2 hours to get from my mom’s house to my dad’s and 5 minutes from him to here,” she said, still hugging and looking up at me. I know what people say; that I’m imagining she’s looking at me in a special way, but I swear it’s true. Not that I ever could figure out her exact intentions. Those blue eyes looked at me with a special playfulness behind them and… something more. But every time I managed to get a glimpse of whatever that last thing was, she looked away.
“Anyway,” I said, untangling myself from our hug, “I’ve told Lea we’d pick her up at a café nearby. It’s on the way and she can’t remember how to get to the Machiavelli.”
“Heh,” she said, “and I’ve never been there.”
“I know, girl,” I said, making our way up the escalator, my hand on her hip, “that’s why I’m taking you there, you know. You’ll love it.”
“Hey Lea!” I said, leading Louise into the café. “Don’t think you two have met before?” I asked and received an agreeing silence, “Lea, this is Louise. Louise, this is Lea.” I said lamely. I couldn’t exactly give their life stories away and I was never good at being quick and concise.
“Nice to meet you, Louise,” Lea said, “Just let me finish my soup and I’ll be right with you.” She promised and continued to eat. Tomato soup with pasta, as far as I could tell. We didn’t get a chair. At this time the café was practically closed anyway, so we weren’t getting in the way of anyone and besides, I like standing up.
“So, you’re going out drinking, I understand?” Leas father; older than my own father, shorter but weighing about the same. Never quite knew how he’d react to anything, so I nodded noncommittally.
Some people aren’t as cautious as me however, and Louise began talking eagerly about how I’d promised to drink her under the table and how she normally got wasted oh-so-quickly. I just smiled and nodded, wondering how much more soup Lea was intending to eat.
Eventually we left, only 15 minutes after we were supposed to have met with the others. I led the way, talking with the two girls at my side as we walked. Louise claimed that I was teasing her – I probably was – and so took shelter by walking with Lea between us. I laughed a bit at this, silently promising myself that she’d have to lean on me when she was going home tonight (or perhaps, at some point early next morning).
The Machiavelli is always empty the first hour after opening. Perhaps it’s because the staff still seem to be walking around with yesterday’s hangover at 9PM, but when we arrived at 9:30, we were the first guests. I ordered a beer for Louise and one for me and we sat down, Lea deciding to wait a bit before drinking. I’ve seen many people go into a bar, sit down for half-an-hour and then start to drink, and never quite gotten the idea. Probably never will either.
Theresa showed up moments after we arrived, pulling her boyfriend after her. Judging by the make-up on their faces and the painted nails, they had been extremely bored. Or maybe he was just getting into touch with his feminine side, who knew? Patrick came around 10PM; bringing two girls with whom he was apparently best friends. For some reason homosexuals always manage to befriend the absolutely hottest girls, why is that?
Part One
It had taken forever to organize for some extremely strange reason. We were seven teenagers on holiday figuring out when we could get together and get drunk. Should’ve been a lot easier than it was. We had had to reschedule three times already… sorry, that’s wrong. I had to tell people that no it couldn’t be that day, because so-and-so had to visit family that day and then tell them ’oh, false alarm’ half-an-hour later. At the end of it all, I had given serious thought to punching a hole through the wall, the only thing stopping me is that concrete tends to hurt ones hands quite a bit.
But now it was all underway. Thanks to the magic of mobile phones and text messaging I had 8 different points on a mental map telling me where each of them were coming from. Me, sitting on a station; Louise taking the underground over to rendezvous with me; Lea sitting in a café getting something to eat before going out; Theresa her usual 20 minutes late, probably 30 minutes today considering that she was bringing the boyfriend; Patrick and his two friends (had I even met them before?) had probably only just finished a bottle of wine and were realizing they should have been out the door 15 minutes ago if they were to be at the bar at the agreed time. I knew my friends, so I had agreed to pick up Louise at the station at the same time I was supposed to meet the others at the bar – they wouldn’t be there for a while, anyway – and then swing by the café to pick up Lea (possibly letting Theresa and her boyfriend join us there, if they somehow came approximately close to the agreed time) and then head over to the Machiavelli to begin the evening properly. I had, after all promised Louise that I’d teach her how to drink properly.
A light buzzing alerted me to a new text message: “I’m on the subway now. I’ll be there in 3 minutes =)”
Louise. That girl was simply too fascinated by smilies, I had to say. I used the occasional smiley to convey whether something was ironic or not, but… well, I just thought it was too much, okay?
2 minutes, 38 seconds later the doors to the subway opened and a confused girl stumbled out looking for me. With me being rather tall, this would’ve normally been an easy task for her, but as it happened I had chosen to sit down. After a moment of appreciating how adorable she looked when she was helpless, I got up and walked over to her.
“Hey!”
I hugged her and answered: “Good to see you! Long trip here?”
“About 2 hours to get from my mom’s house to my dad’s and 5 minutes from him to here,” she said, still hugging and looking up at me. I know what people say; that I’m imagining she’s looking at me in a special way, but I swear it’s true. Not that I ever could figure out her exact intentions. Those blue eyes looked at me with a special playfulness behind them and… something more. But every time I managed to get a glimpse of whatever that last thing was, she looked away.
“Anyway,” I said, untangling myself from our hug, “I’ve told Lea we’d pick her up at a café nearby. It’s on the way and she can’t remember how to get to the Machiavelli.”
“Heh,” she said, “and I’ve never been there.”
“I know, girl,” I said, making our way up the escalator, my hand on her hip, “that’s why I’m taking you there, you know. You’ll love it.”
“Hey Lea!” I said, leading Louise into the café. “Don’t think you two have met before?” I asked and received an agreeing silence, “Lea, this is Louise. Louise, this is Lea.” I said lamely. I couldn’t exactly give their life stories away and I was never good at being quick and concise.
“Nice to meet you, Louise,” Lea said, “Just let me finish my soup and I’ll be right with you.” She promised and continued to eat. Tomato soup with pasta, as far as I could tell. We didn’t get a chair. At this time the café was practically closed anyway, so we weren’t getting in the way of anyone and besides, I like standing up.
“So, you’re going out drinking, I understand?” Leas father; older than my own father, shorter but weighing about the same. Never quite knew how he’d react to anything, so I nodded noncommittally.
Some people aren’t as cautious as me however, and Louise began talking eagerly about how I’d promised to drink her under the table and how she normally got wasted oh-so-quickly. I just smiled and nodded, wondering how much more soup Lea was intending to eat.
Eventually we left, only 15 minutes after we were supposed to have met with the others. I led the way, talking with the two girls at my side as we walked. Louise claimed that I was teasing her – I probably was – and so took shelter by walking with Lea between us. I laughed a bit at this, silently promising myself that she’d have to lean on me when she was going home tonight (or perhaps, at some point early next morning).
The Machiavelli is always empty the first hour after opening. Perhaps it’s because the staff still seem to be walking around with yesterday’s hangover at 9PM, but when we arrived at 9:30, we were the first guests. I ordered a beer for Louise and one for me and we sat down, Lea deciding to wait a bit before drinking. I’ve seen many people go into a bar, sit down for half-an-hour and then start to drink, and never quite gotten the idea. Probably never will either.
Theresa showed up moments after we arrived, pulling her boyfriend after her. Judging by the make-up on their faces and the painted nails, they had been extremely bored. Or maybe he was just getting into touch with his feminine side, who knew? Patrick came around 10PM; bringing two girls with whom he was apparently best friends. For some reason homosexuals always manage to befriend the absolutely hottest girls, why is that?