too old to party, too young to die

yes, its true, i returned to athens this past weekend. im sure word has spread globally, and many of you are still reeling from the news. at any rate, here is a brief recount of the evening.

the biller and i raced to danimals house, and both arrived promptly at like 9:03. we went inside, where we all stared at each other for several moments before deciding to head downtown and begin boozing. bout damn time. the plan was to begin at wild wing, as usual, with some food to go with our booze, and we were thrilled to get a spot like right across from wild wing, but were soon saddened as we learned that the fucking place is closed for like a month for remodeling. what the hell? there was nothing wrong with the first modeling, why attach a re to it. so of course its like five below with the wind blowing, and me without my parka. so the walk around town looking for another spot to eat pretty much blew. but finally we land at the grill, cause its always open, and the secenery is always interesting to say the least. somehow i got stuck on the same side of the table as the biler, but he only grabbed my balls like 4 times, and usually he aims for double digits, so it could have been worse. we ate, and then we left. that part was boring, so i thought id make it as quick and painless as possible for you oh so patient reader types. and now, we shall move right along. we decided to start the evening at molly osheas, which is also pretty routine for an athens trip. that bar seems to blow now though, as far as scenery is concerned, so we didnt plan to stay long. we find a table, and start pounding. the plan, by the way, is for dan to hang til like 1230 and then ditch us for his wife, at which point we will begin an all out assault to find dirtbags to take us home, or start rationing cash to leave us enough to get a cab back to danimals place, which is like three continents away, so the cab ride wouldnt be cheap. by 1230 we are still sitting in the same bar, but the waitress with the boobs prominently on display is humouring us by sitting down and chatting, and calling us hot, and basically doing her best to weasel a good tip from the creepy old dudes we have become. so needless to say, dan is still firmly planted in his seat, and has in fact become quite comfortable in it, comfortable enough in fact to have removed the wedding ring on his finger and ooze the same sort of charm that characterizes those men that never get laid. i myself taught him everything he knows. we continue to regale our waitress (19 years old, but just barely) with stories of our drunken nights in creswell, and of doug passing out twice in one night in the same shower, the second time fully clothed, and she appears to be entertained enough to continue flirting for her tip at least, which is more than i can say for many of the waitresses we have come across in the past. at this point i have begun to steer the poor girls attention towards the biller, and am quite sure that billers swan song will be his attempt to pick up the check, so all in all its well worth my while to send her his way. this does in fact prove to be the case, and when the check comes the biller hurries to cram his credit card in the little slot and send the girl off with it. the biller has always been quite the tipper when theres a woman to impress, and he certainly doesnt disappoint in this case, and decides to personally deliver the check and make his move at the same time. apparently she is not completely grossed out by such a move, even though we made it a point to show her the picture on billers credit card in which he looks like a 1970 ringo starr at the dmv. she gives the biller a number and we make like a newborn and head out (the best i could do, i swear). the biller finally tells us what the number he recieved is, and we proceed to mock him at length, as the number is so fake sounding as to be almost possible, since only a retard would give such a phony sounding number (it consists of three area codes and a 9). we head back to dans, where the biller and i pee in the yard and turn right around and head to waffle house. we eat the late night equivalent of filet mignon (a patty melt and hashbrowns) and are served by what must be the loveliest 80 year old toothless hag in the world. i of course pick up the check to at least make the gesture of paying back the biller for the large bar tab. we head back to danimals (who at some point ive renamed dadimal, as he has become far too old for me to cope with), and im quite sure that at some point i call billers new number just to see if it rings. it rings twice and i hang up, though we remain uncertain. surely we will fnd out soon, as he'll never manage to wait the prescribed six days. i drop the biller off and head home, making a drunk call or two as i drive, tryng to stay awake at four am while listening to whatever the ipod comes up with. on the whole, a rather uneventful evening in the classic city, but a starting point for my return to greatness. maybe one day ill spend more than like 7 hours there and maybe even round up a couple of the usual suspects for a real barnstorming. when that happens, ill be sure to let you know. for now, i leave you.