Sunday, May 30, 2010

Playfully Arrogant

I went to sleep late last night and woke up early today. Not the best of combos for most people, but ESPECIALLY a bad idea considering just how bad I am at waking up as it is.

But I soldiered on.

First on the list was meeting up with Carissa at a park near The Block to hang out and talk about any and all things that were pertinent to life and everything in it. It was quite a nice day, in fact. I don’t spend enough time outdoors. And today was quite nice. After a good talk, I ended up giving her a box of comics that I had always meant to get around to dropping off somewhere. She seemed to really want them, so I was glad that they were getting a good home.

Yeah, sometimes my comics are like pets to me.

After the park, I had to head off and meet up with Sarah at a Del Taco near Huntington Beach. We had made plans to do some bowling, and it had been a long time since I had thrown a heavy ball at a bunch of pins. I was more than happy to play again.

After a light lunch at the Del Taco, we headed out to Linbrook Bowl near where I live. It had been forever since I had bowled, and though I talked a big game, which I think is way funnier than being nice and honest about my lack of skills, I had no way of knowing how well I would do. I did some jokey cheating to throw off Sarah’s game, which mostly consisted of me yelling nonsensical words that had nothing to do with bowling like “Yosemite!” or “Shazam!” when she went up to bowl.

I actually did pretty decent. In fact, I would go so far as to say I did far better than when I used to not be playfully arrogant. I would state that I would knock down most of the pins, and I did. Nearly half the time I would actually succeed in what I was pretending to be good enough to do. It was bizarre. Sarah was annoyed, but seemed to be laughing about it.

Of course, she might be furious and desperately wants to kick my ass, so who knows. The girl is hard to read.

We hung out and talked in the parking lot for a bit before she left for home. I got a call from Justin Claraval, who was on break from the Jesuit school he was attending. He and Victor were going to be at the Old Spaghetti Factory in Fullerton in a few minutes, and he was hoping I could join them. It had been a while since I had seen him, so I was game.

I wasn’t very hungry when I met up with them, so I ordered a soup and salad deal. The salad had a pesto ranch dressing that I will have to duplicate on my own time, because it was really good, but needed a touch more pesto. Justin Quizon joined as a little later. After the restaurant, we headed out to grab a beer at Hero’s, and walk around Downtown Fullerton for a bit. It was a reasonably quiet night, all said and done.

Except someone attempted to egg us.

Now, it wasn’t the best egging that’s ever been done. In fact, they completely missed us. It was a little sad, in hindsight. Justin C., Victor, Justin Q., and myself were walking through a crosswalk when we heard a “SPLAT” and looked down in time to find the remains of an egg splatter across the street. We looked back to see a black truck gunning it down the street after they turned right at the light.

We were all rather calm for a group that had narrowly avoided a vicious egging. I guess what really helped keep us from getting angry was that fact that we avoided it. And we were amused by the fact that the alleged Egg-Hurlers had failed so miserably at hitting four slow moving targets. We speculated the reasons all the way from a last minute change of heart, to someone clumsily eating raw eggs while they were driving with their window open.

Either way, we felt protected, and hung out near the night life of Fullerton a little more before calling it a night.

Topics of Conversation: Drool, caterpillars, the wino at the next tree over, other people’s trash, sex dust, a bizarre episode of Law & Order, morals and cleavage, honking your horn as fanfare, free comics, cars dropping their ass, cheating at bowling, moments of painful clarity, salt & vinegar chips, no socks, kids that are spending an unhealthy amount of time near and on a dumpster, June being a rough month, etc.

-Nate

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