Love. Love? Love,

When my attempts at reading in-between the lines of textual conversations involves punctuation.

Honey: -imitating a guy- Crazy bitch…why doesn’t she like me? I’m totally in love with her!
Lyle Harris: There was a period!

Jonathan Goldman Turns 21!!

The other night Lynx & Crew were out in Wrigleyville celebrating Jonathan’s Goldman’s 21st birthday. We did a mini-barcrawl and it was the second place we stopped that warrants a mention in my chronicles.

Since living in the city, Jonathan Goldman has always wanted to go to Cubby Bear. It’s not my type of place, although it is a staple of Wrigleyville. So we honored his request and when we showed up, this reggae band was playing. There was maybe roughly 30 people there, half of whom I rolled in with. Honey dragged all the girls out to the dance floor, where I got creeped out by guys coming up to us and I headed back to the bar so that I would be left alone.

One minute I’m talking to Kooter Kake and the next I’m talking to a bachelor party. I don’t remember how it started and I couldn’t even tell you what was said, although I did diss the groom-to-be because he was from Michigan and some doofus was a Hoosier. They looked like idiots in these bright red t-shirts which they had specialized for the “Bachelor Party Bar Crawl.” One of the guys, forgot his name, got all up in my space. But it was okay, he was a pretty guy. And that’s when one by one my friends came up to us, saying it was time to go. G-Spot. Once wasn’t enough. Ricky Rousse. Twice wasn’t enough either. When Sloppy Shot came up, I still had half a beer left and I was in the middle of a conversation with a guy.

Sloppy Shot: Come on, we gotta go.
Lynx: I still have to finish my drink. -looks to bachelor party guy-
Sloppy Shot: Is it the only thing that’s keeping you from going to the next bar?
Lynx: …Yes… -meaning no-

And then he took my drink from my hand and finished my beer! And then he basically dragged me out of Cubby Bear! I didn’t even wait til we had turned the corner (Cubby Bear stands on the corner of Clark and Addison) before I started yelling.

Lynx: Why the fuck did you do that?!
Sloppy Shot: You were talking to douchebags!
Lynx: AND THAT’S A REASON TO COCKBLOCK ME??
Sloppy Shot: Uh…they were douchebags…that should be enough reason.
Lynx: But that’s perfect! They don’t want to stay til the morning!

I kept yelling as we crossed the street. I was still yelling when we came to Goose Island and discovered it was closed. I didn’t care who heard, the hobos or the skanks or the bros, anyone and everyone on Clark Street heard that I had been cockblocked. It escalated when we went into Mullen’s. G-Spot and Ricky Rousse cornered me to calm me down. At least I think it was Ricky Rousse? It may have been Boomp.

G-Spot: Would you rather have fun with your friends or have sex with a douchebag?
Lynx: …Yeah I choose sex.
Boomp/Ricky Rousse: But it’s Jonathan Goldman’s birthday. Don’t you want to be there for him?
Lynx: But it was a fucking bachelor party!

Let me first of all say, I fucking love Jonathan Goldman like I love Tucker Max. Jonathan Goldman is like a god in my eyes. I was just Hurricane Bitch out of control. Of course Jonathan Goldman & Crew are more important than random ass with a stranger who went to Mizzou! But my poor vag, they all had someone to go home to! After Mullen’s we stopped at Taco Bell for drunk munchies. On our way out, I saw the bachelor party come in. My ire was reawakened. Hurricane Bitch came out and Ricky Rousse and I got into a physical altercation back at Jonathan Goldman’s apartment. Lesson here? They obviously didn’t pay attention to Scruffelhauser’s words “You don’t want to get in Lynx’s way when she wants to get laid.”

What Assholes Are Good For

We were pre-gaming at Kooter Kake’s apartment before heading to a Cubs game. There were a lot of us there but as much as I would love to turn this into an HHC story I won’t. K-Ho and I started drinking at 8:30 AM and by the time everyone was there, I was already slurring my words and rambling. Honey said something to which I responded,

Lynx: “Assholes are fine to fuck but not to have a conversation with!”

Night Out with Hoosiers

January 2009

K-Ho and I were at JLo’s drinking when his roommate E and his entourage came in from having a fancy dinner for E’s birthday. I happened to notice this tall guy walking into the bathroom, I would later be introduced to him and his name was Kreepster. He left the door open and leaned over the toilet, spitting out clumpy black stuff. We were disgusted not only because he did this with the door open, but he also got it all over the toilet seat! I had no idea what this shit was until K-Ho and JLo told me the guy was chewing (tobacco).   

JLo, K-Ho, myself, and JLo’s other female friend decided to head out to Barleycorn. JLo was a pimp walking in there with 3 lovely ladies. There were a lot of good looking guys there but it sucked because a lot of them were either gay or with an ugly chick. So I sat there just admiring this gay guy standing by our table, wishing there was something I could do make him straight.

We met up with E and his entourage at Nick’s Uptown for afterhours. We got to know the people a tad better. For instance, they were going all out on these energy kickers and said weird Hoosier stuff like “Let’s rage!” I felt like they were invading Chicago. I mean come on, that’s sad, they’re from Indiana. Should we be letting this happen?

One of the guys, Lumberjack, was hard for K-Ho. I can’t say that I talked to him at all, but something was bothering me about him. So I made sure that I consciously turned on my cockblock switch. He would be a sorry man if he pushed me. I tried to tell her that she had beer goggles on. She wasn’t very happy to hear that, and was even less happy when I showed her the text I was sending to Honey: “K-Ho has beer goggles on and I can’t stop her!” I even said something to JLo about the situation, since he was also looking out for her.

E comes up to me, trying to help his buddy Lumberjack out. But I’m relentless. Even if you think you’ve sidetracked me or thrown me off a scent, I come back with triple the zeal. So E says to me, “Look at them. They’re in love. Just let them be, it’s a beautiful thing.” We were both pretty drunk, him more than I, so we kept arguing over whether Lumberjack and K-Ho were in love or not.

I somehow got stuck talking to the Kreepster (tobacco chewer). I had heard stories about him from JLo and E, but I didn’t really know what to expect. K-Ho sent me a text asking if I thought Kreepster was attractive or someone I would make out with. I said no and then she texted me back with, “Not even drunk?” I looked at the Kreepster again and considered it. I’m drunk. If I were more drunk would I be attracted to him? I texted back to K-Ho, “Okay fine.”

Later, the Kreepster came up to me with a cigarette. I don’t smoke really, but I decided to be nice and accept the cig. We went outside to smoke. I found out that he was an accountant and I laughed to myself. I have an affinity for business types (Leo= marketing/sales, Langdon= financial advisor). The Kreepster gained bonus points for expressing an interest in tax law. I encouraged him to go to law school (I do that to everyone I come across, since I also want to go to law school). He didn’t lose any points for saying that he didn’t want to do more school.

The Kreepster then asked if I was sleeping over at E’s. I immediately knew where this conversation would go if I let it, so I nipped it in the bud. I didn’t want to crash at Kreepster’s for a romp, so I didn’t even give him the opportunity to offer.

Kreepster: “So are you staying at E’s?”
Lynx: “Yeah.”
Kreepster: “It’s going to be packed-”
Lynx: “Well I don’t care, I even have a bed!”

We got back to JLo and E’s apartment around 5 AM. All the places for drunk munchies were closed. I took it upon myself to raid their fridge. They didn’t have much to work with, but K-Ho and I started drunk cooking eggs, toast, and hot dogs. The eggs and the hot dogs turned out okay. My eggs were shitty and I was afraid that I was going to burn the building down. I kept having problems with the toast. No matter how many minutes I put it on (they only had a toaster oven), it would not become toast! One of the guys in the entourage came over to take a look at what was wrong, it turns out the toaster oven wasn’t even plugged in.

As we were finishing up in the kitchen, the entourage filtered in. I then heard,

Guy: “Why did you sleep with his ex-girlfriend? He would never do that to you.”
Girl: “Why are we talking about this, it’s so uncomfortable.”

From what I could understand, they were talking about Lumberjack. K-Ho and I went into JLo’s room to sleep and Lumberjack followed us, trying to clear himself. K-Ho had not heard what had been said. It was almost 6 AM, I was tired and this random guy was in my way of sleeping. I couldn’t tell if K-Ho really wanted to talk to him more or if she would just go along with it to be nice, so I turned to him and said not too nicely, “I’m passing out. If you guys want to talk, could you leave the room and do it.” K-Ho declined to talk, the guy left, and we went to bed.

During this time, we weren’t aware that JLo left the apartment for us to burn down with our drunk cooking. He was so hopped up on energy kickers that he left and went to Dunkin’ Donuts where he witnessed an altercation involving hobos.

JLo: “Ya I was there and a hobo inside was fighting for a free coffee refill. He turned to me and yelled at me for money and I thought I was going to get stabbed, so I told him I’d invest in his thirst but not his warmth, so I got him an iced coffee.”

There you have it. Hobos are dangerous in Chicago. They may not go up to you in a drive-thru like in St. Louis and swear by their momma they’re not going to harm you, but the hobos are going after our apple fritters dammit!! When will it end??

Picnic Time: My Face

So today’s entry is about what took place last year at Honey’s 21st birthday celebration. My friends and I refer to this night as “The Infamous Picnic Table Incident.” We celebrated at Alumni, however, K-Ho and I managed to get Honey way too drunk the night before so Honey was drinking water.

I rode out with Boomp and Ricky Rousse. We stopped for gas when the boys decided that they were hungry and were going to run across the busy intersection to get McDonald’s. Never mind having had some drinks and cars are coming at you. That’s not dangerous at all! When they got back we made a pact: since we were arriving at Alumni together, we would also be good friends and leave together. I also told them that Langdon was possibly going to be there and that they should make sure that I keep away from him and/or not go home with him.

We made it to Alumni and upon entering the beer garden, we came across Butch and company. Sloppy Shot, Butch and Jeremy had a reunion and did a round of lunchboxes at the bar. Langdon was trying to chase me around the beer garden, buying me drinks and nachos. Langdon and I were standing around talking at one point and next thing I know, we’re making out. Now in all fairness, he started it. For whatever reason he then took me out to the grassy area, where there were picnic tables, far from everyone. He sat down, made me straddle him, and we continued making out hardcore. I thought I heard G-Spot yell, “HE’S GONNA GET HIS DICK WET!!” but G-Spot denies having said this. Scruffelhauser swung by to take a picture of us making out, that’s how awesome my friends are.

So we’re drunk and making out, totally oblivious to our surroundings. And that’s when the picnic table FLIPPED OVER!!

I was stunned. One minute we were making out and the next minute we were on the ground with the picnic table up in the air. We heard cheering and shouting. Everybody in that damn place whipped out their digital cameras and camera phones to take pictures of us. I was so drunk and embarrassed. I got up and left Langdon behind, but I can’t remember where I went. The making out didn’t end there. Oh no, we became that obnoxious couple sucking face at the bar.

Lazer, Boomp, multiple other friends, were having a field day with me and Langdon making out. They would take pictures of us and be the creepers in the background. You know the creepers I’m talking about. The guys giving the camera thumbs up or high-fiving each other.

Ricky Rousse: “So how do you guys know each other?”

Lynx: “This is how we know each other” -proceed to make out with Langdon-
Ricky Rousse: “Oh, okay…”  

At one point Langdon wanted to take me back to Butch’s. I knew what he would try to do if I went with him. We had hooked up the summer before and he was going to try to do it again. I told him that the only way it was going to happen was if he promised nothing would happen. He drunkenly promised and I went to tell some folks I was going to leave.

Ricky Rousse came up to me, “What are you doing? What happened to us leaving? I hope you don’t do something you’re going to regret.”

I like to think that I’m a person of my word and that I’m a loyal friend. Langdon was not the person I should be leaving with. Ricky Rousse, being the friend that he is, said he would drive me home instead. I went back to Langdon and told him that I changed my mind. I would be going home with Ricky Rousse. Langdon was angry at being cockblocked.

Langdon: “Are you going to let your friends tell you what to do?”
Lynx: “You won’t understand, I’m sorry…just give me a call tomorrow, okay?”

He went back to his table to go sulk. He couldn’t even look at me when I said goodbye. I didn’t know this at the time, but Butch told me a couple days later that Slim and Tad made a bet that night on who would take me home. Slim thought Langdon would be triumphant, after all that hardcore making out, how could Langdon go back empty handed? Tad thought Ricky Rousse would be the one to take me home, and he was right.

Boomp, Ricky Rousse and I left. I went into drunk hysterics while in the car and Sloppy Shot had to come out and calm me down. Unfortunately we had bigger problems on the way home. That problem was a road block teeming with police. I’ll spare you the details, but Ricky Rousse almost got a DUI that night.

Ricky Rousse: “Officer, I’m the designated driver. I only had a few drinks.”
Officer: “If you were the designated driver, you shouldn’t be drinking at all.”

Out of our friends, we were not the only ones who got stuck in this predicament. I did feel guilty, because it was my fault that we were in this situation. I would have felt worse if Ricky Rousse had gotten a DUI. Lucky for us, we did make it home that night. But for future reference, never tell an officer that you’re the designated driver and that you’ve been drinking!

The Roster Question

May 2007

I was watching movies at Leo’s one night. I happened to set my beer down on his dresser and saw something I really didn’t like. On top of his dresser was a condom. Like every other guy, Leo kept his condoms in a drawer. So why was a condom lying around, when it had never happened before? My conclusion was that he was with another girl. I got pretty upset but didn’t ask him about the condoms until after we were done having sex.

Lynx: “So there’s a condom on your dresser.”
Leo: “There is? -confused pause- Is it open?”
Lynx: -lying- “Yes it is.”
Leo: “Really? No it’s not.”
Lynx: “You didn’t even know there was a condom there! How can you say it’s not open?”
Leo: “It wasn’t open, that condom has been there since I moved in and it’s been shifting shelves when I clean my room.”

Apparently this sounded like a satisfactory answer for Leo. I don’t think there was anything he could have said to me that would have made a random condom lying around okay. I even sent a text to Honey to get another female’s opinion. Her response was, “Well that sucks, but at least he’s being safe!”

A few nights later I was talking to G-Spot about it, hoping that he could help me with my approach to asking Leo about the condom. For those of you who don’t know me, I’m a very confrontational person when I’m angry. G-Spot is my translator for all things nice and girly.

Lynx: “Should I say ‘If you have a little roster going on, I never minded before but I don’t feel like wasting my time anymore?’”
G-Spot: “That’s a little confrontational. You could say something like ‘Because when I see a condom laying around it sends me a certain kind of message I don’t like.’ “
Lynx: “Yeah, no. I went ahead and said, ‘If I find myself with an STD, you are a dead man and don’t think I won’t go after the girl.’”
G-Spot: “Why did you do that?”
Lynx: “Cuz I want to be a bitch.”
G-Spot: “Oh Lynx. Your bitchiness is like the dark side of the force. We need to Jedi train your ass to be sweet and cuddly.”

Conversation with Leo

Lynx: “So there is a roster then?”
Leo: “What’s a roster?”
Lynx: “Don’t play stupid with me! You’re a guy! You know what a roster is!”
Leo: “Oooh you mean a rotation? Shut up and drink more beer.”
Lynx: “Might I repeat we’re all grown-ups here.”
Leo: “More or less.”
Lynx: “Hey just because I’m not as memorable as some girl puking in your car, doesn’t make me a child!”

When Leo graduated from NIU we continued to hang out for 2 months and when he moved back home, we lost touch. When we saw each other for the first time in 7 months, sex wasn’t on our brains. He even told me about all the girls he dated since he last saw me. One of whom got so drunk, she puked in his car. I don’t know why I remembered this particular girl, but I did throw it back at him. We played a drinking game to 40 Year Old Virgin and wound up sexing. It was so amazing (remember I’m a loud fuck), his mother couldn’t look him in the eyes for the next 3 days.

What about the condom on the dresser? I won’t tell you what he said to get himself out of the doghouse.

Slapbag

June/July 2007

Slapbag is a drinking game I discovered in the summer of 2006, when I went camping in Wisconsin with the brothers Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum and their Wisconsin friends. It’s a very simple concept. You take a swig of Franzia and then slap the bag, trying to make a cracking sound. Those slaps are the best. And then you pass it on to the next person until the bag is dry. Now I know this sounds a little stupid, but once you get going and the alcohol is flowing, this is fun as hell. Seriously. FUN.

I had so much fun that I had to share this with the rest of our friends. Now I thought that I had had fun playing it with Wisconsin folks. Well the friends that the Tweedles and I share, are a very creative bunch and took Slapbag a step further. Whereas the Wisconsin folks just slapped a bag and passed it on, Sloppy Shot, Ricky Rousse, Honey, and Lyle Harris came up with different ways to pass it on and slap the shit out of that Franzia bag. Can you high five the shit out of Franzia? Maybe do an Eiffel Tower? Backhand it? Do a flip and then see if you can whack it? We started off 5 strong, then there was 3, but Sloppy Shot and Ricky Rousse were the brave men who sucked that Franzia bag dry.

I can’t really remember what happened after we had nothing left to drink. At some point we decided to walk Honey home since she literally lives right behind me. I can tell you that I don’t remember me physically walking to her house, I was pretty fucked up. All I remember is that from the short walk from my house to hers, I had to call Langdon. You know, that urge of MUST CALL YOU and ADMIT DRUNKEN THINGS TO YOU.

Langdon and I met in February 2007 when Butch and I went to ISU. I was digging him and then after 2-3 hours of meeting him, I found out from Butch and Slim that he had a girlfriend. So of course I was disappointed. Well they broke up a few months later and he started asking about me, but Leo and I were back together so nothing happened. Langdon couldn’t get me out of his mind, so he asked Butch for my number and made a call. But I never got that call or the voicemail he left me. Apparently Langdon called some girl he thought was me and left a voicemail saying, “I think you’re an awesome girl and I’ve had this big crush on you since we met. Can we hang out sometime?”

Only to realize that he called the wrong person. He was completely horrified, “I just poured my heart and soul out to a complete stranger!”

I’m pretty sure that Butch (with the encouragement of Slim and Tad) purposely gave Langdon the wrong phone number so they could laugh about it. Well I had been thinking about it, and I don’t know how I got his number (I think it was in a voicemail and I couldn’t hear the digits), but I dialed away.

“Hi Langdon, it’s Lynx. How’s it going? You know what, I totally thought you were really cool when I met you. You were cute and funny, and I’m not gonna lie, I totally wanted to make out with you! But then you had a girlfriend so I thought you were a douchebag. Like a really BIG douchebag! Anyway, so maybe you are a douchebag, maybe you aren’t, why don’t we try to be friends? See where it goes? I really just want to be your friend.”

Yeah well guess what. I had dialed the wrong number! Of course I told Butch about it and he thought it was absolutely hilarious.

I was so sick the next morning, instead of driving to my 8 am summer class, I drove over to Sloppy Shot’s because there was no way I was going to be able to sit through 3 hours of American History without passing out or puking. Which I tried to sleep, puked a bit, got dragged out to breakfast by Sloppy Shot and Ricky Rousse, puked some more, got back to Sloppy Shot’s and perhaps puked more and then finally slept it off. All while he was running around helping his mom with computer stuff.

I have pretty much sworn off Franzia since that night. WORST HANGOVER EVER!