New Year's
12/30
I vacated our room, loaded up the 3, and then took off to the north side of town to get in on some nice brunch action. The empanadas, in particular, were quite good, and I enjoyed getting to catch everybody one last time before I headed out.
I met up with the rest of the Ward clan at the outlet mall in San Marcos. We stopped off in Austin so that I could help Rebecca get her new TV set up, and then we made the final jaunt back to Waco.
I joined Thomas and Ali for a little beer drinking. Our first destination was Cricket's, which was quite crowded, so we tried next door at Malone's (excuse me, Bogart's). That was crowded, too (and a little douchey), so we moved onto George's so that Ali might learn the beauty of the Shiner Big O. I was actually wearing my George's shirt that day; Thom was kind enough to lend me his Iron & Wine shirt so that I wouldn't be that guy.
It was then that the text messages started. It was a Houston number, and not one I knew.
After the first round, I supposed it was possible that perhaps it was some girl I'd met but never called; after the second one, I knew someone was fucking with me (metaphorically speaking). George's was closing (because they suck like that), so we moved to Hemingway's, where I told Thom to call the number and pretend to be me. There was no answer. Thomas said the name on the voicemail was "Catherine."
It took me about ten seconds of thinking to make the logical step from Catharine to...
Kitten.
And there it was. It was time to have some fun.
There may have been more. Win joined up; Thomas and Ali took off; Win gave me a ride home with a brief stop off at Krystal, the White Castle of the South.
I was in bed, almost asleep, when the phone rang. It was a (very) drunk Lauren, congratulating me on winning the little text message game and, somehow, shocking kitten with my final responses. We talked for a while and had a nice, drunken conversation.
12/31
I had been working, somewhat, since I had arrived home before christmas at putting together New Year's plans for us. Robyn was an obvious choice. I tried to hunt down Randa just in case she happened to be in town (which she wasn't). Robyn, as of Friday, had decided she was going to host a party, despite being sick. Saturday afternoon, she called and cancelled.
Which left us planless. So, driving to have dinner with my parents and their friends, first at Texas Roadhouse before moving to the less-crowded Elite, I started trying to come up with other ideas. Bennett was in Temple and potentially was willing to host. Thomas and Ali were indisposed in Temple. I really thought our best bet would be to try to catch up with Cindy or Rebecca or LS Lauren in Austin, and could have picked the gang up in Temple on the way there, but Thomas and Ali weren't interested and came on back to Waco.
In the end, they, Bennett, and myself ended up going to Cricket's, because there are few things that can't be resolved with good beer and a cigar. The clientele was a bit douchey (can I use that twice in the same post?) that night, so we staked out a nice corner of the outside balcony and got some beer.
This was a night that I somehow managed to feel like a big spender. The cigars were surprisingly cheap (all under $10). I tipped the girl working that counter, and she seemed very pleasantly surprised that anyone would do such a thing.
I went outside, lit up (with some difficulty; we ended up going through a couple of books of matches), and enjoyed my beer and the company. As midnight got closer, I headed back downstairs to get the celebratory New Year's beer, the most expensive thing Cricket's had to offer, the $18 bottle of Chimay Grand Reserve. The conversation with the bartender went something like this:
We poured the nice stuff up in time for midnight (passing the complimentary, and probably cheap, chapagne). After the first glass, I set about calling everybody that I thought would appreciate it to wish them happy new year's, in total making around 24 calls. David kept calling with orders to Bennett to buy people various drinkable or smokable items on his behalf. Then he called and harrassed the sick Robyn to come and join us, and I finally had to tell him that she was on her way to get him to leave her alone.
I went down to buy a round for everybody on David's dime: a few pricier beers and a Damn Good Shot for me (as I needed a little boost by that point). I paid for the round with the cash Bennett had given me and got several largeish bills back from the same bartender that had sold me the Chimay.
Win showed up. We closed the place down. I think we went somewhere. Maybe Taco C? Maybe not. I certainly remember Win queueing up That Dog on his iPod, and I instantly loved it. I got home, a little drunk, and slept.
1/1
Mom, Dad and I joined family friends the Hoffmans for some New Year's dinner. I caught up with Thom and Ali after that and we took her to Scruffy Murphy's. Nothing terribly eventful.
I vacated our room, loaded up the 3, and then took off to the north side of town to get in on some nice brunch action. The empanadas, in particular, were quite good, and I enjoyed getting to catch everybody one last time before I headed out.
I met up with the rest of the Ward clan at the outlet mall in San Marcos. We stopped off in Austin so that I could help Rebecca get her new TV set up, and then we made the final jaunt back to Waco.
I joined Thomas and Ali for a little beer drinking. Our first destination was Cricket's, which was quite crowded, so we tried next door at Malone's (excuse me, Bogart's). That was crowded, too (and a little douchey), so we moved onto George's so that Ali might learn the beauty of the Shiner Big O. I was actually wearing my George's shirt that day; Thom was kind enough to lend me his Iron & Wine shirt so that I wouldn't be that guy.
It was then that the text messages started. It was a Houston number, and not one I knew.
Them: Why don't you ever call me?
Me: I don't recognize this number.
Them: I bet you recognize the pussy!
Me: I still don't know whose number this is.
Them: Let's stop talking about numbers and start talking about fucking.
After the first round, I supposed it was possible that perhaps it was some girl I'd met but never called; after the second one, I knew someone was fucking with me (metaphorically speaking). George's was closing (because they suck like that), so we moved to Hemingway's, where I told Thom to call the number and pretend to be me. There was no answer. Thomas said the name on the voicemail was "Catherine."
It took me about ten seconds of thinking to make the logical step from Catharine to...
Kitten.
And there it was. It was time to have some fun.
Me: OK, Kitten, when are we going to fuck?
Kitten: Damn it, how did you figure that out?
Kitten: Oh, shit, voicemail. Cheater.
Me: Forget how I figured it out. You said something about fucking?
There may have been more. Win joined up; Thomas and Ali took off; Win gave me a ride home with a brief stop off at Krystal, the White Castle of the South.
I was in bed, almost asleep, when the phone rang. It was a (very) drunk Lauren, congratulating me on winning the little text message game and, somehow, shocking kitten with my final responses. We talked for a while and had a nice, drunken conversation.
12/31
I had been working, somewhat, since I had arrived home before christmas at putting together New Year's plans for us. Robyn was an obvious choice. I tried to hunt down Randa just in case she happened to be in town (which she wasn't). Robyn, as of Friday, had decided she was going to host a party, despite being sick. Saturday afternoon, she called and cancelled.
Which left us planless. So, driving to have dinner with my parents and their friends, first at Texas Roadhouse before moving to the less-crowded Elite, I started trying to come up with other ideas. Bennett was in Temple and potentially was willing to host. Thomas and Ali were indisposed in Temple. I really thought our best bet would be to try to catch up with Cindy or Rebecca or LS Lauren in Austin, and could have picked the gang up in Temple on the way there, but Thomas and Ali weren't interested and came on back to Waco.
In the end, they, Bennett, and myself ended up going to Cricket's, because there are few things that can't be resolved with good beer and a cigar. The clientele was a bit douchey (can I use that twice in the same post?) that night, so we staked out a nice corner of the outside balcony and got some beer.
This was a night that I somehow managed to feel like a big spender. The cigars were surprisingly cheap (all under $10). I tipped the girl working that counter, and she seemed very pleasantly surprised that anyone would do such a thing.
I went outside, lit up (with some difficulty; we ended up going through a couple of books of matches), and enjoyed my beer and the company. As midnight got closer, I headed back downstairs to get the celebratory New Year's beer, the most expensive thing Cricket's had to offer, the $18 bottle of Chimay Grand Reserve. The conversation with the bartender went something like this:
Me: Hi, I'll take a bottle of Chimay Grand Reserve.
Bartender: ...
Bartender: The blue label?
Me: Yeah.
Bartender: I'll have to go get that out of the back.
Me (internally): This isn't a $300 bottle of chapagne we're talking about here.
Bartender (returning): We don't have the right glassware for this. Are wine glasses OK?
Me (internally): Thom is going to kill me.
Me: Sure.
We poured the nice stuff up in time for midnight (passing the complimentary, and probably cheap, chapagne). After the first glass, I set about calling everybody that I thought would appreciate it to wish them happy new year's, in total making around 24 calls. David kept calling with orders to Bennett to buy people various drinkable or smokable items on his behalf. Then he called and harrassed the sick Robyn to come and join us, and I finally had to tell him that she was on her way to get him to leave her alone.
I went down to buy a round for everybody on David's dime: a few pricier beers and a Damn Good Shot for me (as I needed a little boost by that point). I paid for the round with the cash Bennett had given me and got several largeish bills back from the same bartender that had sold me the Chimay.
Me: If you'll give me some change, I'll leave a tip.
Bartender: You're obviously not from around here.
Me: Well, I am, but I moved away.
Bartender: Well, you must have learned something since you left.
Win showed up. We closed the place down. I think we went somewhere. Maybe Taco C? Maybe not. I certainly remember Win queueing up That Dog on his iPod, and I instantly loved it. I got home, a little drunk, and slept.
1/1
Mom, Dad and I joined family friends the Hoffmans for some New Year's dinner. I caught up with Thom and Ali after that and we took her to Scruffy Murphy's. Nothing terribly eventful.
posted by L. Maxwell Ward at 11:16 AM
