Rando
12.21.4
I had never watched anyone snort coke before last night. It really is an interesting little ritual. The cutting of the drug. The organizing of the "lines." The usage of a rolled-up hundred to inhale the substance (Which I can only assume makes them feel classy, as opposed to using a one dollar bill).
I still consider heroin to be the most romantic of drugs, however. Not the brutal realities of it where people fuck up their veins, or ruin their lives, or transmit HIV. I'm talking strictly about the actual act of using heroin. The spoon, the flame, the injection. There's a mystery behind it that intrigues me.
I didn't know any of the "coke-snorters," except for one. It's always interesting to me when I haven't seen someone for months, and when I finally do, they're doing something that seems completely out of character for them. However, it seems that a person's "character" is nothing more than my opinion, and Jin probably doesn't see it the way that I do. Still, I beg of you Jin...get off of the coke. You ramble on incessantly enough without any outside aid.
I was getting quite sick of sitting around watching this, when my reason for coming to the party finally showed up. Danielle is a girl I've known for several years. I used to have a bit of a (for lack of a better word) crush on her, and we used to flirt constantly. Looking back, I now see that it didn't necessarily have anything to do with me. I think flirtatiousness is just in her nature. Still, I love hanging out with her, and was quite excited when I heard that she was back in town for a couple of weeks.
She came with two guys...Randy and his little follower, Arthur. Let me tell you about Randy (Whom I will, from this point forward, refer to as "Rando"):
Rando is the absolute lamest person I have ever met. He rambles on about how he's over 3 million years old (Or 10,000 in "celestial" years). He sits on the floor with the tips of his fingers pressed to his eyes in order to "see your soul." Through this, he can determine your "actual age" as well as your "race."
He decided that I was a "human" who was 900 "earth years" old. Jin was a human as well, except of the "Alexandrian" type. Someone who's name I don't remember was a "humanoid lobster." Tira's was my favorite, though. See...she "shouldn't be on Earth" because her elf-like race was "sent behind the barrier." The barrier that Rando himself created with his "powers."
Jesus Christ Rando. It was cute for maybe the first 3 minutes, and even that's stretching it. However, he then proceeded to ramble on about all this bullshit for the rest of the night. He and his little follower would converse about their "regeneration abilities," and "aura sight," and "telekinesis." It made me just want to slap the shit out of Rando. (Which his follower did at one point. However, Rando then "regenerated from it in two seconds." When I asked him what was so special about regenerating from a slap so quickly, he explained to me that he and his follower had some kind of special martial arts skills, and that the slap in question would have actually blinded a "normal" person, because it "hits three ocular nerves.")
It eventually became clear that Rando did not like me. I'm pretty sure it had something to do with his affinity for Danielle, and the jealousy that arose from our usual casual flirting. As I drank more and more, I came to the conclusion that my goal for the night would be to piss Rando off as much as possible. I'm pretty sure it worked, although the only way I could tell was by the way he every now and then gestured over at me and muttered the word "mortal" to his little follower.
I wonder if Rando has ever made the connection between this fantasy world of his, and the inability to get laid that I'm sure he must have? Well, Rando, here's a tip. Look back on last night. There was a reason that while you were chattering about your "powers," the girls and I were busy signing each other's body parts.
Loosen up, kiddo. Be the "human" that you know you actually are. Stop making yourself look like an idiot, and have yourself a little fun.
Speaking of fun:
Once I was good and drunk last night, Mike and I headed over to Wal-Mart. It was closed, but for some reason we were able to go in and purchase some mixers. Don't ask me how, because I don't remember. All I know for sure is that there was something about a "wrapped palette" and that this morning, when I woke up, I was the proud new owner of Avril Lavigne's first CD.
God, drinking rocks!
