**originally posted on April 13th on my myspace page**
8:03 PM (Mountain Standard Time): Nolan and I decide to have some Mexican food because Easter’s a special day. We discuss how we need to make a fun night out of this, because fun nights are running out quicker than Medicare. *zing!* Jazlyn keeps us entertained with her texts though, and talk turns serious when Nolan and I discuss how we’re basically accountability buddies. I’m going to need him on speed dial on those rainy, Oregon mornings when the snooze button is more tempting than Brooklyn Decker covered in melted Swedish fish.
8:13 PM: It isn’t much of a party. While Nolan and I can always manufacture fun, it’s easier with more people on the assembly line. Lance is the missing link. We pick him up at the gym… Kinda. He has to walk a little bit because I’m a quasi-tard and can’t figure out how to get into the gym’s parking lot.
8:22 PM: How many well-behaved slightly-nerdy kids does it take to come up with a fun idea? More than three apparently.
8:27 PM: A joke turns into a mission, as we decide to randomly follow cars for as long as we can. Once they reach their destination, we do the slow drive-by before speeding off as fast as Sascha (my decade old purple Camry) will allow.
8:35 PM: This is turning out better than expected. You can almost see the light bulb and the gnawing panic during that moment of realization that they’re being followed. We debate the legality of what we’re doing.
8:41 PM: A promising group of girls in a sporty red car (we also discuss how easily our lingo becomes associated with the Dahmers and Bundy’s of the world) pull into their driveway and drop someone off. They literally stay there for ten or fifteen minutes, causing us to give up.
8:50 PM: We meet out match. A dirty Suburu Hatchback with a bike mounted to the top and wildlife license plates gives us the runaround for quite a while. The car’s plain appearance encourages Lance to name him Mr. Boring: “‘with my boring license plates that aren’t even normal. I don’t even speak English I’m so boring’,” he drawls.
8:52 PM: Mr. Borington (as we’ve taken to calling him) tries to give us the slip in a dead end. Instead, we park in front of the entrance/exit and wait for his next move. The Mexican Standoff lasts almost a full minute, and Borington (he’s lost honorific privileges at this point) pretends to pull into a driveway. We pretend to buy it, and park nearby out of sight.
8:55 PM: Now Borington is tailing us, as we leave just seconds before him. No doubt he’s taking my license plates and calling me in. Well played, Borington.
9:00 PM: We shake him and wind up behind him, thanks to my expert maneuvering. Borington Bear (as I’ve taken to calling him) is in our sights once more. Eager to put a face on my white whale, I pass him on Central. He’s a normal-looking college-aged cyclist who looks a little scared. He won’t make eye contact. I try to slow down and get behind him, but he won’t let me. So I go slower. So does he. By this time we’re going five to ten miles below the speed limit on Central and I’m getting nervous. Borington Bear will not let me get behind him again. So I slip in front of him and go even slower, daring him to pass me. Traffic streams by on the left, as the three of us duel with Borington Bear. Finally, we reach an intersection and I decide to see if he’ll follow me. How much does Peter Borington-Bear (his final name) love the thrill of the chase? He doesn’t take the bait though, and as we turn and loop around to follow him again, we see him pull into Blockbuster. Followed by a cop. Touché, PBB. You win this round. We take a side street and slink into the night.
9:33 PM: After decided the group needs more estrogen, we meet up with MacKenzie and Kylie. MacKenzie’s idea of a good meeting place is Zimmerman Park. Nolan and I agree it’s a better meeting place for a Satanic worship group. MacKy finally agree to take my car, though we’re not totally sure if it’s been tabbed by the cops.
9:57 PM: Rehashing the Borington story for the girls is the main highlight. Everyone freaks out when I drive past the Police Department, and I search for justification that we’re not going to get arrested by pointing to a gang of gangbangers bangin’ down the street. I point out that they’re not getting arrested, so what’re we worrying about? Several of them stop and turn, one points at me, and I realized my loud voice has carried over to them. Part of me thinks this was my plan all along, and the other part hits the gas pedal and gets out of Dodge before they gat us.
10:28 PM: Somewhere in the conversation, the Crucified Cat crops up. Neither Kenzie nor Kylie has seen it, but Kylie thinks it’s a hoax. I almost driving up a one-way the fun way, and we spot the ill-lit stoop. Kylie covers up her bawk-bawking by saying she thinks there’s an alarm that goes off. Kenzie has more courage and walks up the steps. If you’ve ever seen the Crucified Cat, you can imagine her reaction. It was nearly as bad as Dustin and mine. She sprints around the corner to the car and for some reason singles ME out to be pissed at. Upon reflection, I wonder if the cat is risen, what with yesterday being Easter and all…
11:10 PM: MacKy heads back to Kylie’s house and we drop off Nolan after I fail to convince him to skip class tomorrow and hang out with us longer. Some accountability buddy I am. It’s down to Lance and me.
11:15 PM: Leaving Nolan’s street we notice a toilet someone has set out for the garbage man the next morning. “Wouldn’t it be a great idea…” Yes, it would. I try to lift the toilet, and the water inside spills all over my feet. I freak OUT. “ABORT MISSION! ABORT MISSION!” I yell, and we peel away as the house’s garage door opens.
11:20 PM: Thoughts keep returning to that can, as if it was placed there for the singular purpose of us stealing it. We call Anders, and surprisingly he’s in, so we swing by and pick him up. The only question that remains is where to put it.
11:33 PM: A target is proving to be hard to pick. Both Lance and Anders want to put it on a church, but I don’t wanna make a religious statement. Ideally, it would be somewhere public. Somewhere funny. Then it hits us before we know it. Naples and Ahoy.
11:59 PM: The house on Naples and Ahoy has gotten more than its share of underwear in its mailbox. It’s a rite of passage among our friends. Well tonight they’re going to get a little more.
12:23 AM: Conquering the toilet proves simple. Lance drains the water, and Anders bags it up. The porcelain present is loaded.
12:37 AM: Just plunking the toilet on their driveway isn’t flashy enough. We have to TAUNT them. The three of us hit up Wal-Mart for sidewalk chalk and liquid courage On the way to the target, we plan. I’ll write the note; Lance and Anders will jettison the package.
1:10 AM: I crawl into bed. What a fantastic night.
Had to get that out while it was still simmering in my mind.
One Battle of the Songs, a Big Ten, and Dustin up soon!