Well, after a bit of a break, I'm back. I have to say, I should have warned you about the previous post. You can expect those sort of posts out of me every once in a while. We will refer to them as "Ryan's Corner." I imagine a fair amount of you will know what that refers to. For those that don't, at my old house in Austin I had a backyard. And in the corner of that backyard, I had a hammock. And in that hammock I spent time pondering my own questions and trying my best to answer those of others. It was a place to be alone with my thoughts and a place to give whatever advice I could to others. That is the sort of ramblings you can expect from "Ryan's Corner," so stay tuned for the next one (they will most likely come late at night when I am having difficulty sleeping).
Now, onto another story for your entertainment. This one may read somewhat short due to my lack of a clear memory of the entire event, but what brought me to the most entertaining part of the night is of no real importance. While I still lived in Austin, the glorious ATX, it was always bittersweet to see a friend leave the city and progress to a new stage in life. One friend in particular decided to go out with a bang. She threw a "Keep Austin Weird" themed party to celebrate her departure. That was a great night. My brother, a friend, and I dressed as hipsters and my parents even made an appearance since they were in the 512 that weekend. Our outfits were quite hilarious, although I was dubbed Chester the Molester for the night, due mostly to the style of glasses I chose to wear and the ridiculous staches we were sporting:
Well, after the photo-op and some pregaming, we all went out... that is except for our friend who was leaving Austin; the one for whom the event was thrown. She was unable to decipher between her pregaming and her gaming, an important lesson that one would expect a 4 year UT veteran to have mastered. Regardless, she never made it out of the apartment. So, after a long and fun night, we had to set ourselves on repeat for the following night when our friend would actually be able to join us. We first met at the apartment from the night before to once again get our game faces on, and of course for another attempt at some PB&J acrobatics.
A preview from the first night:
What happened next, I'm not exactly sure, but I do know it involved a cab ride to Dirty 6th and our fair share of drank. But that is not the important part of this post. It is the events that took place once we returned from the bars of 6th Street in which hilarity ensues. I am not sure exactly what happened, but I had decided to crash on the couch at my friend's. Being a smoker, I had the urge to go to the stair well to indulge my yearning for nicotine one more time before bed. My friend was looking awfully tired in the living room, and since her door locked automatically I asked to borrow her key while stepping outside to the stairwell to ensure my re-entry into the apartment. She insisted that such a thing was not necessary and that there was no way she would fall asleep in the time it took for one cig. In my state of mind, I believed her and stepped outside, allowing the door to close and lock behind me. Several minutes later, I knocked on the door to have her let me back in. There was no answer. So I knocked... and knocked... and knocked even louder. I then began to call, only to hear her ringing phone from the other side of the door. It was in that moment that I realized her assurance that she would not stray to her sleep had been compromised. She had fallen asleep. So I called and knocked hoping to wake her, but it was to no avail. Cold and in only my socks, jeans, and a button up shirt armed with nothing but my cheap flip phone and the last few sticks of my Marlboro Blend 27s, I slumped against the door, exhausted and ready to close my eyes for the night. And that is exactly what I did.
I woke up the next morning to my friend shaking me out of my sleep. I had slept on the sidewalk just outside the front door to her apartment. As I awoke to her frenzied voice and jilting shakes, I realized there was meaning in her urgency. You see, her parents were coming that morning to pack up her room and move her out of the apartment, and they had just woken her up with a phone call saying they had parked and were on their way upstairs. After desperately searching the apartment for my static body, she realized what had happened and ran to prevent what could have been a very awkward morning for me. After she informed me of her parents' arrival, I ran into the apartment, quickly put on my shoes and found a mirror to see just how bad I looked; I already knew that I had Dorito Face. Dorito Face is something you get after a long and late night out, after some drank and no shower before bed. It is especially prevalent in those who slumber on sidewalks. You can check yourself for Dorito Face by rubbing your face with your fingers and then smelling them. If it was a crazy enough night, your fingers will then smell like Nacho Cheese Doritos, and not from eating chips... that is in fact what the face smells like: Nacho Cheese Doritos. After doing my best to straighten myself out, I walked back into the living room to greet her parents (I had previously been recruited to help with the move). With their looks of confusion towards my presentation, we began the move. It was then that I explained that I had crashed at their daughter's the night before. HA, if they only knew I was sleeping on the sidewalk in front of her door just minutes before they knocked on it!
After completing the move, my friend's parents were kind enough to thank me by inviting me to eat lunch with them at Pappasito's. They did however request that I douse myself in Febreze before accompanying them for fajitas; a request I was happy to accommodate. Even I could smell an odor over my Dorito Face: BO. After lunch, we said our goodbyes, and I quickly made my way back to my own apartment; back to my own bed. Ah, it was a wonderful feeling to lay my sidewalk sore body down on a softer surface; and for that day, I forgot that my mattress was an old and worn hunk of metal and fabric, caring only that it was not a rough and cold piece of concrete.
I woke up the next morning to my friend shaking me out of my sleep. I had slept on the sidewalk just outside the front door to her apartment. As I awoke to her frenzied voice and jilting shakes, I realized there was meaning in her urgency. You see, her parents were coming that morning to pack up her room and move her out of the apartment, and they had just woken her up with a phone call saying they had parked and were on their way upstairs. After desperately searching the apartment for my static body, she realized what had happened and ran to prevent what could have been a very awkward morning for me. After she informed me of her parents' arrival, I ran into the apartment, quickly put on my shoes and found a mirror to see just how bad I looked; I already knew that I had Dorito Face. Dorito Face is something you get after a long and late night out, after some drank and no shower before bed. It is especially prevalent in those who slumber on sidewalks. You can check yourself for Dorito Face by rubbing your face with your fingers and then smelling them. If it was a crazy enough night, your fingers will then smell like Nacho Cheese Doritos, and not from eating chips... that is in fact what the face smells like: Nacho Cheese Doritos. After doing my best to straighten myself out, I walked back into the living room to greet her parents (I had previously been recruited to help with the move). With their looks of confusion towards my presentation, we began the move. It was then that I explained that I had crashed at their daughter's the night before. HA, if they only knew I was sleeping on the sidewalk in front of her door just minutes before they knocked on it!
After completing the move, my friend's parents were kind enough to thank me by inviting me to eat lunch with them at Pappasito's. They did however request that I douse myself in Febreze before accompanying them for fajitas; a request I was happy to accommodate. Even I could smell an odor over my Dorito Face: BO. After lunch, we said our goodbyes, and I quickly made my way back to my own apartment; back to my own bed. Ah, it was a wonderful feeling to lay my sidewalk sore body down on a softer surface; and for that day, I forgot that my mattress was an old and worn hunk of metal and fabric, caring only that it was not a rough and cold piece of concrete.
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