Saturdays in the Fall

I collapsed into Jimmy's arms.  It had been a while since I had a hug.
Someone observed to me a few weeks ago that Saturdays in the Fall are basically always holidays.  And today it certainly felt like it.  We were all going to watch football and hang out and have a good time.  Even my sister was in town.  She had asked me (me!) for advice on alcohol, so I got her some peach schnapps and orange juice and told her she was going to love Fuzzy Navels.  Most women do. 
The hallway flooded with various young'uns who were going to the game.  They were dressed in their gear, and I got hugs from people I knew, all surprised to see me there.  I met several of the new freshmen, one of whom is super proud of his Polish heritage.  Man.  Freshmen just keep getting younger and younger.    
Paul, Jimmy, Kristina, Dan and I all sat in Jimmy's room, chatting it up.  Apparently some of the freshmen girls decided to decorate people's doors with silly nicknames.  For example, they're calling Jeff Diesel now, which just weirds me out, because I went to high school with a boy nicknamed Diesel and I hated him.
The nickname thing brings up how I have lots of nicknames for certain friends.  I told everyone the story of how, over the summer, I had decided my superhero persona was The Giver, because I gave people nicknames.  And then I told Jimmy he should be my sidekick, Sensitive Man, because then he could tell me if my nicknames were insensitive or not. 
"And then," I said, finishing up my story "Jimmy goes 'Will you still call me Juicebox?'" Everyone laughed. 
"You know how you call me Honey?" I asked Dan. 
"Oh, I'm sorry.  Everyone in my family does that.  We call each other all of those names."
"Oh no, I'm not angry about it.  I was just going to tell you that I like it when you call me Honey.  It sounds nice in your voice." 
And then the conversation shifted to something else, and I never got a chance to tell Dan that I had been working on a nickname for him, and I was thinking about calling him Dan Nobilissimus.  It is Latin for most noble, and when I had been reading about it, it had kind of struck me as an appropriate faux title for him.  I had considered going with Christianissimus (Most Christian) after reading about the title for Kings of France, but decided that I'm unclear about Dan's religious beliefs, something more secular was in order. 
We decided to go out to one of the bars, so after getting all dressed in appropriate wear, we headed out.  (Nate had given me the key to his room by "accidentally" losing it in Paul's room.)  Being a pseudo-holiday, everything was in full swing.  Walking along, I was so excited and happy.  We stopped for a little while to hear the band play some songs.  I danced a little. 
We ran into Justin and talked briefly.  He looks great, as always.  I can't believe how adult and grown up he is. 
As we walked along, I even spotted one of my TAs from four years ago.  We greeted each other. 
We went really early to the bar because we were afraid of getting seats, but we waited less than five minutes for a hightop table.  The one lone guy standing there looked completely out of it, and his buddy came over and yelled at him.  (Something about a cell phone, it was hard to hear.)  And then they left, which of course means a woman came over and sat a large glass of beer in front of me. 
"Should I drink it?" I asked everyone.  Everyone voted no. 
We had a nice time.  I scared everyone right off the bat by drinking two shots of whiskey in a row.  And then following it with a Long Island Ice Tea. 
Being as I am a fan of Long Island Ice Teas, I have them a lot, and they are not all equal.  This particular bar had ones that made me happy, so I knew I wanted to have one.  Paul ordered one too, and I thought for a moment about how this was the bar where I first turned Paul on to these.  I know just about nothing about alcohol, so it's strange that anyone would take my advice on the subject. 
We watched the first half of the game there.  There was a lot of excitement and cheering.  I nearly hit a waitress in the face when I threw my arms out.
We had planned to leave at halftime and walk home, but Paul left early.  Paul's sometimes does that, and I didn't think anything of it.  I just enjoyed my wings, fries, and Red Headed Slut.  I've had really good Red Headed Sluts, but this one was terrible.
We did leave home at halftime.  I paid about twenty four dollars for four alcoholic drinks, pop, wings, and fries, which is by far the best I've done at a bar before.  This was gloriously good.
Meanwhile, behind us, several guys were hanging out.  They were drinking, but they weren't drunk.  One of the guys was getting his friends to slap him across the face.  When this group of guys saw that we were about to leave, they asked for our table, and we happily gave it to them.  After all, that's how we had gotten the table and I'm a big believer in East Lansing manners.
As we were about to leave, I turned to the guy who was taking slaps.  "Can I slap you?" I asked. 
"Sure!"
I pulled back and whack! right on his left cheek.  I aimed it perfectly, my fingers just hitting the area above his beard, getting my upper palm right on the thickest part of his face.  It pleasantly stung my hand.  Dan, Jimmy and Kristina looked at me like I was crazy.