Saturday, February 16, 2013
Fuck Atlantic City / Thank fuck for Angie & Nate
So hey fun story: Went to my friend's bachelor thing yesterday, right? Atlantic City.
End up at a strip club that's more depressing than I can adequately describe right now. Spent 15 minutes telling a Russian import that, really, no, I didn't want a lap dance. Then I was her therapist for another 15 because she really wants a cat but her landlord won't let her. True thing. Then I helped a discharged Marine get home. Then I talked to a Nam Vet (tells me he was in Laos, pilot). Then I looked for interesting debris and garbage and stuff in gutters outside because holy shit I did not want to go back inside.
Then I'm told we're leaving. HOORAY. No more depressing strip club. I am safe.
Get back to hotel. Am told it's time to check out the casino. I keep walking toward the casino. Rest of the group ... MAGICALLY DISAPPEARS. I run into a Hispanic guy and his girl, because they're both desperately trying to find a place to smoke as well. Talk to them for a bit. Try to contact group. No dice.
Hispanic fella, Nate, and his girl, Angie, say: Fuck it, come hang out with us. I do. They know a nice bar with pool tables a block away.
I think: OK, someone from the group will get in touch with me. I'll just hang out with these cool folks.
The sun comes up. Still no word from the group. I call. I text. Nothing.
I look at my phone. It's getting on 8am.
Nate asks me: "What's up?"
I say: "Trying to figure out where I'm gonna sleep" -- Thing about the hotel is, they won't even let you near the elevators without a room key. Thing about this situation is, I thought I was with a group of folks who wouldn't just disappear. Thing is, I don't have a room key. I ain't gettin back upstairs.
Angie asks me: "Where you need to go?"
I say: "New York City."
She laughs. Like, Motherfucker, good luck with that. Then thinks about it for a minute. Then says, "We're heading north anyway. We can drop you off in Newark."
I try to call someone from the group again. Still, no answer.
The sun is up now.
I say: "OK, let's fuckin do it." Follow that up with: "You realize I'm literally putting my life in your hands, right?"
They laugh and say: Yeah.
What follows is a moderately insane high-speed race up to Newark from Atlantic City. It's fun. Largely because of the aforementioned high-speed aspect. And the moderate insanity.
None of us has slept.
Three hours later, I'm writing this. Thinking, fucking hell. Thank fuck for smokers. Thank fuck for Angie and Nate.
24 hours awake. I still haven't slept, but I'm working on it.
[Update] 11:43, still no word from anyone. At all. Hooray!