Luke Grown Up

They say everything happens for a reason, right? I stand behind that, less in the sense that we have no control over our future, and more in the sense that our actions and the actions of others influence our future actions. Therefore, anything I say or do is a reaction to the things I have experienced in my life.

That being said, I was a complete dick to some girl last night. But I’m not going to get into that yet. Suspense! I’ll proceed to lay out the evening and the events that led up to this fateful meeting. It opens on Luke sitting at his desk, doing his OWLs (online homework) for Chemistry. I am not having a good time with it because the girls invited me to watch Borat with them, and I really wanted to, but I had run back here to look for my watch (missing since Wednesday night) and to do my OWLs (due at 2 A.M. this morning). I am sitting here plugging away when I get a phone call from John, ordering me to come to The Pub with him. Apparently on Thursday night it turns from nice little restaurant to Strumpet City Dance Bonanza. I am reluctant because I have to finish my work. We agree to give me about 45 minutes to finish, at which point John will show up and we’ll go, regardless of my status. Well, I finish just in the nick of time. I throw on my jacket and we roll.

We pull up to The Pub, and the place looks deserted. John parks in the middle of an empty parking lot. We get out, perplexed, and proceed to walk without confidence through the front doors. There are a few people inside, including a Billy Idol look-alike (it was a woman). John gets the obligatory shot and beer for each of us, and we sit at a nearby table discussing the mystery of the empty place. The dance music is goin’, the dance floor is flashin’, but the dance itself is missin’. There are a couple lame dudes playing pool in the corner. John chastises me for never having seen The Color Of Money, and I chastise him more for never having seen The Hustler.  He also reprimands me for my unsure thoughts regarding Pre-Med, and he reminds me why I’m doing it.  I realize he is completely right, and that I know I can get in somewhere, and it’s not going to be as hard as I think it is to get all my requirements fulfilled.  After all, I can do anything if I put my mind to it.

Slutty-looking women start entering. A group of them crowds around near us. A guy with them looks like a mixture of Sean Willis and Jay D’Errico. I note this to John. One girl repeatedly makes John roll his eyes with her vapid behavior. I figuratively do the same. We decide to get the fuck out. While outside, we end up talking to the hybrid guy, whose name is Alex. Pretty cool guy.

John and I hoof it over to Delano’s, where the party is just getting started. A shot each and a pitcher. John’s friend Anthony shows up with his friend, so we all hang out at the corner of the bar. Pretty good times had by all, though John keeps busting on my choice of women, and Anthony’s friend continually asks girls if they have fat friends - surprisingly, they keep talking to him. I realize this is a fantastic strategy.

The rest of the evening is pretty uneventful until the very end, about 15 minutes before we leave. Still we are colonizing the corner of the bar, but now I am standing up. Over the period of the night I feel ready to administer some discipline. Now is the time. I see a girl very close in front of me with a fake-looking tan, leathery skin, and a real bony frame. She and her friend are coming my way, but are not paying attention to me. I know now what I must do. I grab the girl’s hip to get her attention.

Luke: Excuse me, I was wondering, do you go tanning a lot?
Girl: No, not really…?
Luke: Oh, I was just wondering because you kind of look like a skeleton.
Girl’s Friend: That’s not a very good pickup line!
Luke: No, it’s not a pickup line at all, I just wanted to tell your friend that she kind of looks like a skeleton.
(The girls conference briefly)
Girl’s Friend: Yeah, that’s really nice, it’s like that because she has a disease.
Luke (calling their bluff): Well, either way, she still kind of looks like a skeleton. What disease?
Girl’s Friend (raising her fist): I’m going to punch you in the fucking face!
Luke (unflinching, raises hand, pointing to right cheek): No, go for it - I’m not gonna hit you back - hit me right here. I just think you’re overreacting, just because your friend sort of looks like a skeleton.
Girl’s Friend: Okay, that’s enough. Turn around.
Luke: No, I don’t want to. I was just standing here, telling your friend that she looks like a skeleton.
Girl’s Friend: TURN AROUND.
Luke: Nah, I’m set.

At this point they finally stopped talking to me. The reasonable thing for them to do would be to walk away immediately, but what drunk is reasonable? Sure explains my actions. At this point, I go over to John and tell him that we had to leave right away. He asks why, and I tell him I’ll explain in the car. We leave.
Now, let me get back to my original thesis. This wasn’t just a random event. This happened because of a series of events that culminated in this conversation:

1. I haven’t been sleeping much for a good month. After this amount of time, I’ve become more bold and less caring of consequences. I bust chops harder and more often.
2. I was drunk. My boldness level was elevated from the regular 6 or 7 to a 9.
3. The night before I got insulted by some girl I don’t even know regarding my hometown and some other things I can’t remember. Major bullshit. I guess I decided to pay it forward.
4. The evening sort of darkened my outlook, because nothing was really going my way. On top of that, seeing all those strumpets at The Pub didn’t help matters.

There may have been other factors, but those are the only ones I can think of off the top of my head. Regardless, I stand by the fact that it was not just a random occurrence. Thinking about that now, I feel a little bit like a jerk. But not that much.

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