Sooo...it's my 19th birthday and dear Chelsea has some amazing party for us to attend. The only downside is that it's on 28th and Colorado. I know what you're thinking, and yes, that sounded like a very substantial walk to me too. Going would be a commitment. Nonetheless, we decided to go, brave the arctic gusts and make our way to this apparently epic party (and by epic I mean 5 guys and a handle of Vanilla McCormicks).
We are making our way our of Libby Hall and a Range Rover pulls up next to us. Expecting the usual, “You drinking tonight ladies?” request, we are caught off guard when he offers us a ride.
“To where exactly will you be taking us, random bearded guy driving the Range Rover?” I inquired, and where does he tell us, you got it, party at 28th and Colorado. Just our luck! (If I had been thinking straight, this would have tipped me off and I wouldn't have been surprised that this “party” was 5 guys and a handle of McCormicks.)
Now mom, if you're reading this, I know you're cringing and praying that I didn't get in the car and I give you my full permission to stop reading now and continue believing that I always practice my best judgment and that I went back to the safety of my 10x10 room with Becca and played Apples to Apples. Go on now. Close the screen.
Without a moments hesitation I hear, “SHOTGUN!” from my left and Chelsea is already in the passenger seat. Jessica and I follow suit and only pause long enough to ask the random bearded Range Rover driving guy his name, Will. Sounds like a respectable name, so without a second thought I'm buckled in and on my way to 28th and College.
Moral of the story. It's okay to trust him if he drives a Range Rover.
3 comments:
I vote poor judgment. Guess who?
I second that emotion.
What poor judgment? I closed the screen when she told me to. -Mom
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