josh's night out

it's not a great story, but it's good enough and I'm sure that it could have happened just the same with the "union" cast of people and places. so, I'll sub in those names in lieu of the ohio people i drank with last night and relay the story.

Pete, Losure, Kate, Stacy and myself went to the Union Inn last night and had a few beers and assorted mixed drinks. We hit it up a little early, around 7:30, and got some uber-cheap bar food. All was good and someone decided to play pool so we took turns playing eachother in teams of two. The night wore on and the crowd thinned out around 10:30. So rather than call it a night we decided to head to Sympo.

At Sympo we drank a bit more and some of us got high; nothing too serious but still good times. The boredom encourage a second round at the bars and we took off on foot to Rupsis and then Geppetto's. All went well and the night continued to be a mark of failed sobriety. Looking up at the clock I realized it was still rather early, only 11:30. At that point Kate befriended a steel industry union worker who was in town to build an air base. This man, Dan, was about 40 and looked very angry but had a positive disposition. Kate apparently made a really good impression upon this steel worker because he bought a round of shots for a few of us at the bar. This was all well and good until one shot turned into four shots, and "buying" turned into "demanding we drink the booze in front of us."

Me, being the scholar I am, used by mental abilities to calculate that he would stop buying shots (and demanding subsequent drinkage) if I bought a round. I was wrong. Pete began telling the steel worker a story that went nowhere while Stacy continued to make reference to what and who Kate had done the night before. I had thought we had lost track of losure until I heard someone fall behind me. Losure took with him two bar stools that he had been leaning on. This was a cue for the steel worker to buy more shots until it was last call at 2:30.

I'd like to claim I knew the rest of the story and that I could tell you what happened to Pete, Josh, Mike, Stacy, and Kate, but I cannot. All I can tell you is that I woke up this morning with a foul taste in my mouth and five peeled-off pabst labels (and 1 miller) and an empty wallet.

Remember, friends don't let friends befriend unionized steel workers.