Day of the cockfight and Brad showed up at 7 a.m. just like he said he would. He let himself in with the key that the lemon roommates weren't supposed to know he had. Brad had been thrown out for being a drunk and out-of-control roommate. The lemons couldn't kick Bill out 'cause he was loaning rent money to Devon, and I straightened up my act for a bit. Rob, the downstairs neighbor, came up for the dreaded "roommate meeting" and decided to kick Brad out so he could have his room. Later Brad's crack smoking experiments prompted them to demand Brad's key.
Brad dragged us out of bed and we went shopping for malt liquor, Boones Farm wine, and cigars. Dave Ninja wanted to go, but he was up in Sacto and Brad insisted we had to be in Riverbank by 10 a.m., so we had to flake on the Ninja. We called up Steve on our way through Oakland, but for some reason he wouldn't get out of bed at 8 am to go to drive 2 hours to see some dumb animals fought to the death for amusement and gambling.
Bill and Brad drank while I drove. I was trying to break the drinking and driving habit. A couple nights before, I drank a box of wine at a Probe Magazine release party and blacked out (I was later informed by the lemons, in that way that adults let you know you're a fuck up, that I'd been telling people that I was Devon Morf from All You Can Eat and that they should fuck off). I remember being home and having to drive my car across town to Bernal Heights so I wouldn't get parking tickets. It was 2 am and school started the next day, so I wouldn't have time to do it in the morning. Bill led the way and I followed with my head out the window hoping I wouldn't puke on myself. I cursed the gods for making me drive through the spins. So no more drinking and driving for me.
We stopped at Target for breakfast nachos and Cokes, wiping Nacho Cheese off our hands on whatever was handy -- towels (only the white ones naturally), sleeping bags, little girls dresses, that kind of stuff. Bill and Brad had the usual cigar fight that booze and cigars leads to. Brad snuffed one on Bill's hand, but for a change, Bill was the first to score the winning forehead burn. Bill pulled out a pair of $2.99 black woman's underwear and said, "Hey Brad, your mother left these at my house." Then ripped a hole in the crotch to smoke a cigar through while wearing 'em on his head daring us to get a picture. He'd pull 'em off when he thought we were about to get one.
We pulled over as the beers went through 'em, so they could piss. I did a Batman E-brake U-Turn as we exited the freeway and slid under the overpass so Bill and Brad could stand on the rental car to piss -- all while Bill was wearing the underwear on his head. I was ordered to drive up the embankment and got stuck the car in the mud. Bill stood in the street laughing while Brad pushed and I floored it in reverse. Some guy in a van drove by laughing and Bill started to yell "What the fuck are you looking at" then realized when people laugh at your stupidity instead of looking superior it's a sign of good people.
 Stuck in the mud |
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Brad takes a leak. You can't really tell in the photo he's standing on the car. |
