No story should start with "So we were doing Jaeger bombs last night ..."
As I sit here and write this, its 4 minutes to 5 the morning after the night after exams. I wish I could tell you that, after a long night of "unleashing the fury" and howling at the moon, I just stumbled into the house. I could, I suppose, tell you that, after a long night of "unleashing the fury" and howling at the moon, I just stumbled into the house (and decided that the better part of valor involved hiding out on the couch and writing a blog post) but, I fear, it would all be but a lie.
Not that I'm averse to hyperbole, mind you. No, with my luck, it would turn out to be an Honor Code violation or something. I'd ask someone about it, but I suspect they'd simply refuse to answer, lest they give me an unfair advantage ...
You know you're getting old when the prospect of a Kitchen Pass until 11pm is cause for celebration. Actually, you know you're getting old when the phrase "Kitchen Pass" (or "Hall Pass," as my friend Doogie calls it) takes on any meaning whatsoever.
Last night, armed with my Kitchen Pass, I joined very nearly all of my classmates at a local watering hole in celebration of "...being 12.5% of the way to a MBA." The unfortunate rhyme aside, less than 10 minutes had passed before I found myself in possession of my first Jaeger Bomb of the night ... at 4:30 in the afternoon ...
Although I had every intention of making full use of the afore-mentioned Kitchen Pass, a mere 3 hours later I found myself walking what seemed like 17 thousand blocks (all of them uphill at that - thank God it wasn't snowing) home. As I entered my house, I was greeted not by my almost-but-not-yet wife (she was out at dinner with people who weren't me, hence the Kitchen Pass), but by one of our two cats.
As he sat there, meowing at me mockingly, I decided - through the haze of 2 Jaeger Bombs and about 6 beers, which is more alcohol than I've had in the past 6 months combined - that it would be a good idea to rename the cat "Lukebrucepaul," so I renamed the cat "Lukebrucepaul." Our other cat I renamed "Jaeger Bomb."
I then watched - gleefully, I might add - as Jaeger Bomb chased Lukebrucepaul around the house.
I would have pondered the existential implications of my observation, but it was all I could do to make it upstairs to pass out in bed.
At 9pm ... so much for the Kitchen Pass ...
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