We were going to take a night off but then our drunk friend came along and whined and whined until we finally went with him to the Good Dog. We managed to get a table which is always a tough feat on a Saturday night. Taylor joined the team and our line-up was complete.
There's nothing like sitting in a booth with good friends, laughing like crazy and feeling like you are home. Kids dropped by the table to say hello and introdcutions were made. More faces, more smiles, less scene-dance-crap, more person-to-person chitchat.
The rest of the night was drunken banter at Taylor's amazing apartment on Rittenhouse Square. I dream of having a view of the skyline the way he does but unless I become a famous wrtier or something like that...it's just not going to happen. Beth and I said our farewells around 3:30am and headed to the bus stop, and that my friends, is when the magic happened. A cab pulled up, we said we didn't need a ride, he said he'd give us a free one, he was on his way home. "Well, where do you live?" "I'm going to 48th and Walnut." I look at Beth wondering if this could really be true. Is this guy actually driving to his home, a home that happens to be 2 blocks from our apartment. A few more inquiring questions to make sure we weren't about to be kidnapped and killed and we were on our way home in minutes. It was glorious.
Tonight I am actually taking the night off. I have a quad muscle that desperately needs some water rather than alcohol flowing through it in order to repair it's already torn fibers.
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