Courting the Ladies

Readers of this blog will have picked out the various, highly-successful courting tips that we have dropped across various posts.  If you are a new reader, or someone of poor memory you can read about meatballs, multi-colored sneakers, and the $300 wardrobe.  Aside from those colossally effective tips I have some more for those still on the auction block.

Often you can learn even more from failure than success.  By now we should have volumes of useful knowledge.  Unfortunately we are left a pile of failures, but we like to think of some of these as sort of successful.

The first of these tips is more for camp counselors.  I was at a week long camp in the Catskill Mountains.  This was a co-ed camp for budding young adults between the ages of 13-15. They could have called it “Caligula Camp” given barely supervised new teens about to burst with seminal fluids. The best example is a game I call “Blind Grope”.

They took us all into a large, flat, open grass field. The camp counsellors stood at the borders to keep us corralled in the field. They blindfolded all of us and set us out. The object was to find the murderer before everyone was dead. A few people were murderers and a few more police, and the rest where bystanders. When you touched a person you both paused a moment. Bystanders say nothing. If someone whispers “murder” then you scream “MURDER” (causing the other bind players fleeing the area – only walking, no running). The police whispered police and if you were a murderer you where then caught.

The real “objective” was simple. Grab some boob. As you would expect, and as I confirmed when I was finally “murdered”, hence leaving the field of play and removing my blindfold with the other victims, was the boys expended one are out to encounter boobage, and the other arm jealously guarded the package. The boys moved about quickly to cover as much area as possible, obviously spending more time if they ran into a girl. The girls were well informed to take small, quiet steps and used both arms to fully protect their upper assets.

When you were “out” and got to watch the field of play it was very entertaining. The climax of the game was one girl who took the offensive. She had either played this game before, or was well aware of the perverted minds of young boys. Instead of guarding herself, she moved with brisk steps of force with her arms pistoning forward in a downward angle. This action felled more than a few boys. She seems to have a sense for boys approaching as she never caused damage to another female. I expect she is a CEO somewhere today.

The next tale of courtship also took place in a camping situation. This time there where only a few of us, and we took a canoeing trip for a week in Canada. We spent most of the week on a peninsula on one side of a lake. The lake was bordered by mostly permanent residents, but a few homes rented out for the summer. The one directly across form out camp site was rented to two older women who we watched for two days as they utterly failed to use a canoe. They were drunk every time we saw them. While some people drunk dial and others wander the Tops isle, still other try to get into a canoe. They continuously fell into the water and screamed at each other.

After two days they managed to get into the canoe, but also padding in the same direction, thus managing to propel themselves across the lake and towards us. As they approached all staring in order to get a closer view at what a train-wreck looks like close up. Suddenly they came into focus. Our eyes were torn asunder by the vision of two nasty old drunks that were topless this entire time. As we averted out eyes to avoid permanent blindness, we heard the cry of the Northern Light Hag, “Get a good look perverts!”

I cannot leave this particular story with such a crime against nature. During the canoeing to the peninsula we portaged (that means carry your fucking canoe over land) across an all girls camp. Enjoying the brief time, but soon forgetting about it we were surprised a few days later, to see some of the females from this camp canoeing towards us. They setup camp no more than 20 yards away. Their 19-ish women counselor was as lacks as our 19-ish male counsellor.

I should mention that there is normally a qualified staff member with these canoeing expeditions, but they ran out of staff and since our guide lived in the area, was 19, and had been on the trip a few times they deputized him. He lead us away from the normal paths, and into a den of disgust (the old women above) and love (see below).

The female campers were no match for the combination of Canadian wildlife, a sparking lake, and dirty boys catching frogs. Through some Druidic magic the even closed as were paired up around a roaring fire. Each couple encased in their own blanket. Being a gentleman I shant disclose what may or may not have occurred that night under the stars.

Now we will leave the romantic camping settings and escape to a simple phrase handed down from a guru of lotharioism. The proper procedure, according to this casanova is to whisper gently into a woman’s ear, “I want to eat you into utter submission.” Like an angry Republican from Texas the shock and awe of this statement will roll over her with such speed as to leave her defenses shattered. I cannot give any further details, but I will back up the perhaps surprising performance of this quip with a statistic. Two out of three times this has been employed it has bet with success.

The occasionally mentioned, but universally loved Rob gives us our next parable of love. Rob had been in a prolonged dry spell when New Year’s Eve rolled around. Many of the usual crew were gathered at our beloved Anacone’s. After the compulsory toast at the stroke of midnight we actually engaged in a round of declaring resolutions. When it came upon Rob to make his decree he raise his glass and gleefully yelled out, “I declare this The Year of Rob!” He consummated the proclamation by grabbing the mammary gland of the woman next to him. Again we witnessed shock and awe. It was a good thing the woman was a friend of ours. As this was out of character, and he had imbibed several quotas of intoxicants there was no rebut. Over the next year Rob made good. He found a new girlfriend that lasted several years.

The New Year’s following the successful year of Rob leads us into our final tale of seduction. I made a similar decree as to being “The Year of Aaron.” holding more of a strict character than Rob I set forth a rule. “I will ask out at least one new woman a month.” In January I asked out Chris’s sister, but given he pervious exposure to my juvenile antics there was not surprise on either part to the answer. February I asked out some woman I can’t recall other than this we of a slightly more serious attempt that the paper-attempt of January. No dice. With March approaching I had used my two options for asking out a woman without any fear. Now I knew I had to actually encounter a real life situation.

In preparation I read “How to Win Friends and Influence People.” This seemed to be a useful skill to acquire, no matter what kind of “conquest” you were out for. The point from this well-known tome that stuck with me is the tactic of asking a person two questions they cannot say no to before getting to the real question on the third try. The idea is that they are in the habit of saying yes with the first two questions, so that when you get to the third they will reactively say yes.

I set my sights on a buxom woman who was playing volleyball in Delaware Park. This is when Chris and I had been playing weekly volleyball with the alternatives. I later learned they did not like this woman. During the game I managed to flirt successfully with her. Before I knew it the game was over and people began to leave. She was only an occasional player so I knew I had to make my move. I volunteered to stay and help take down the equipment. Chris and JP where present and both knew what I was up to. They left, hiding out in the nearby parking lot so as to be the first to find out what happened. I continued the flirting, ask me not what I did exactly as I was in a haze. As I walked with her to her car I entered stage one. Damn! I was still surrounded by a cloudy haze. I had asked question one, but I did not know what I said! I have blown it already!

I saw her mouth move, and hear a “Yes.” Somehow I had not shot my self in the foot. I had to expunge this cloud out of my hear and think clearly. Before I could clear my head entirely I found I was already half way through my second question! What the hell was I gonna do now? I had no choice but to complete my question. Now I was done for sure. I managed to clear my head, now awaiting a sure-fired denial to an unknown question.

Somehow my luck held as I was gifted with a miraculous second affirmative. Now I was where I wanted to be. I finally had a clear mind. I had put in the pre-work, and all I had to close the deal with deliver my closer. I took a breath and confidently fired my final salvo. “Do you eat?” Her response was a collage of confusion and smirk. “What?” was her reply. I then asked he out, to which she told me she was engaged. I was still elated as I had executed my plan and it did not end in catastrophe. We parted and i started the trek towards the parking lot to make my after action report. As I strutted away, proud in my own accomplishment, I heard her yell. “Hey!” I looked back, her voluminous upper half protruding from her car door. “Nice line.”

And with an Aesoply ending I leave you with this. Into every life a little love must stumble, even if by remarkable luck, but place your bet upon a tactic of shock and awe.


The Official Story: Dan

Dan has previously posted the details of some of the minor Comstock characters. But who is this main character himself? In what may become a series I present to you an in depth look at the man himself, Dan.

To coincide with the title of this piece let us start with where Dan came from. Dan started as an unknown freshman at a well known local Catholic school. Dan and another unknown freshman, Matt, crossed paths, and found there was something of a friendship there. I do not know the details of their first meeting, perhaps they themselves can shed light on that incident. Who would have guessed the road their chance meeting led them down. The important thing was that it was Dan’s fault we all come to know Dan, and it was Matt’s fault we all came to know Dan.

When this duo encroached upon the gamer club at said Catholic school the radius of their infection was astonishing. Not only sinking claws into other students, but reaching into across two-lane roads that should have been four lane roads. A surprisingly long half-life did this collision of carbon did have. I myself felt safe, but through my friendship with Louis I was infected.

Dan is someone you have to experience. I used to feel I had to interact with him in order to keep an eye on him, and while that was true for a period, the majority of the time I wanted to see what weird people and experiences he would bring about. Life is to be enjoyed, so if you ever have a “Dan” in your life, I suggest you get all you can from the relationship. Although you need to take a break from Dan every now and then.

I am not going to attempt to organize the following incidents in any fashion, as that would be counter to the spirit of “Dan”. So here they are, strewn about, much like your sense of decency after encountering Dan.

Dan has a knack of making a lasting impression on almost anything he encounters. I obtained a board game about computer hacking. The player in the lead, at the end of each round, was given a cardboard shuiken and declared the “Net Ninja”. As with any game our group took part in, the fun was being a jerk within the rules. As such, when Dan became the “Net Ninja” he made a motion across the table as if to “hit” us all with the shuriken and boisterously declaired, “I am the Net Ninja! WHAAAAAA!”

You have already heard of Dan’s Dashwood Society. There is a lost video I saw once of the antics of the Society one Friday Medicine Hour. This included Mucabala Dan running naked, except for a long fake beard through the Tops parking lot. Another portion was Dan himself, in his Reverend garb, drinking a conyak and being interviewed by Brian. The interview was a good 45 minutes long, and as the interview progressed Dan threw more sheets to the wind, and became more belligerent. Hard to imagine.

Dan was an early inscribed name on The Plaque along with the original name, that being of Larry. A rare evening together with the two forces of chaos gave us witness to this exchange:

Larry: *blah, blah, blah* anal sex *blah, blah, blah*
Dan: *blah, blah, blah* anal sex *blah, blah, blah*
Larry: “There are no feelings for her when you are about to finish. Those last few strokes are POWER strokes.”
Dan: “They ARE!”


Every now and again Dan would surprise us with his generosity, like when he was approved for a Discover card. Suddenly he was always offering to buy you a Coke or coffee at Denny’s or Tom’s. These where his favorite late night hang outs. Often with himself, writing, and finding more strange creatures of the night.

The most generous display of Dan’s generosity was already detailed in The Night of Revelations, but another generous moment was when Dan showed up to our weekly “poker” night with Sake. This was a time of relative inexperience with the world, and so the knowledge that Sake was to be served warm was unknown to any of us. Despite that lack of critical knowledge, the sign of the Sake coming in a giant jug should have been a tip off. Dan, Rob, and myself where quite eager to sip the Oriental treat. We all took at a swig, and the taste was dreadful. We all endeavored to complete the glass we had already drawn. Dan gave up, while Rob and I finished the glass, the worse for doing so. Recanting this story invokes responses of dejected head shaking.

When we all used to get together Sundays Dan would show up early (which was merely on time) in order to perform a dramatic reading of the Weekly World News. It was a chargeable performance listening to the normal stories of “Bat Boy Found!” and the readings of “Dear Abby” which Dan was particularly fond of since she answered her letters in a a Dan-esque manner, i.e. “Dear Loser, Get a life and stop bothering me.”.


I arrived at Dan’s place to pick him up, and as usual, waited for him to finish whatever he was doing (never ask) in the kitchen. I took note of a new addition – a fresh hole in the wall. I say fresh because I had been in the kitchen two days prior, and no hole was present. When Dan emerged I inquired. “Oh, Mucabala Dan did that with a dildo.”

As we can judge by the high popularity of the Tracy Mehm post some of you remember when the story of this Dan associate was in the news. Some may remember another story in the news. The story of a naked man stuck on Goat Island, and how they had to helicopter him to safety. The man was drunk and jumped into the river to ride over Niagara Falls. The extreme cold of the river sobered him immediately. He managed to get to Goat Island before plummeting over the Falls, although the raging water stripped him of his clothes. This young man of good judgement was stuck on the island until morning. A good use of the $10,000 it cost to rescue him. This was one of Dan’s friends.


Dan is never one to shy away from awkward situations, especially if that means having a conversations with total strangers. When Louis was about to leave the state for grad school we where all over at his place for a party.

Louis: *slight panic* “Hey! Where’s Dan?” (it is always wise to keep an eye on the whereabouts of Dan at a party)
Aaron: “Last I saw he was outside.”

Dan was indeed outside. He had become a welcome member of the table old retired guys drinking and smoking in the car port. They all loved Dan. This brings me to another point about Dan, at least the old Dan. When I brought Chris around I wanted him about Dan. I said if he is nice to you he is setting you up for something. Just to get to me, Dan was always nice to Chris.

When Mike’s wedding came around I was curious as to who I would be sitting at my table. I thought perhaps Paul, if he showed, but I knew, as soon as I learnt he was attending, Dan would be there, and so I was not worried about a boring time, with no stories. Dan rambled on to a female guest at the table for 15 minutes before she revealed he already knew her. Dan quickly recovered and then hit on her pregnant friend, who was married, but the husband was out of the country (they where in the military). I later found Dan and Mike’s mom laughing it up on the balcony during a smoke break. Still more humorous was that Dan had rented a car for the first time to drive up to the wedding. What does he pick as his first rental car? A bright red Corvette, manual, which Dan does not know how to drive. I watched in amusement as he “drove” (jerked) away with a smile.


Dan has dipped his toe into the cooking water. He attempted to make jell-o form his own toe nail clippings. It takes a lot of clippings to have enough for jell-o. Dan was kind enough to leave these in a CLEAR container on the kitchen counter for all to see. Tragically, Dan’s mom threw out the container, thinking it something gone bad when Dan had near collected enough. Distraught, he tried again, and successfully made a smaller batch. I don’t know who tasted the finished product, but I’m sure that feat earned them a place in the Dashwood Society.

Dan has dabbled in the arts as well. For a time he created a comic strip “Unspeakably Violent Jack”. As with many things, Dan drew inspiration from him friends. The “Unspeakably Violent Jack” character was based on his own, thank god only, imagination. Other reoccurring characters where “Dastardly Evil Matt” (Matt), “Cubicly Rubix Louis” (Louis), and “Musically Bloated Brian” (Brian). There are others that hopefully Dan will remind us of, and more importantly I hope Dan can post the comics themselves. To show this is a seasonal post, I recall one of the comics that outlined how to head-butt Santa from the back and push his skull out his face.

Perhaps Dan’s most impressive skill was self-gratification. In the middle of Denny’s he boasted ho he could masturbate without using his hands. And immediately proceeded to demonstrate by holding his arms in the arm, and gyrating his pelvis in an unspeakable manner. The typical Dan grin was fully apparent. Dan must have been exceptionally successful that night for no more than 30 seconds of god-less pelvis gyrating has passed before he quickly excused himself to the restroom.

For better or worse you now know more about the character of “Dan”.

Wolf and I

Now that we have 100 stories out there, our readers will have a pretty good picture of the setting of Comstock. It is time we delve a little deeper into one of the key relationships around Comstock, not to mention I am saddened that my name has not been more prominent in the recent posts.

As is obvious by the title, this post centers around the evolving relation between Wolf and myself, one of the lynch pins of the whole Comstock experience. I am going to take you through the story of our relation (God! Have I said “relationship” enough already! As Mooney would say, “We are not Gay!” :)) from start to finish.

The first time I met Wolf was when I visited St. Joe’s to join Louis in the “War Gamer’s Society”, a society not a club – club’s do insufficient damage. Unbeknownst to me I would here meet a number of future hooligan associates include, Wolf, Knaus, Schultz, Burns, and JP. I am not good with names-to-faces; it takes me a few meetings to match them up, so much to their future anger I thought Mooney, Wolf, and some guy named “Booger” were the same person. In my defense, on each of my visits only one of this trio would appear each time. There is nothing else memorable about this first meeting with Wolf, mostly due to not knowing who he really was, and since I had just been introduced to so many of Louis’s school comrades I selectively choose to ignore some. As there was nothing particular of note with Wolf I found no problem in placing him on the “ignore” list.

The next era was when I sophomore year when I moved into Goodyear. These dorms were setup to have two doubles with a shared bathroom. Wolf/Knaus in the nicer (carpeted, TV) room and JP/myself in the other. This is where my relationship with Wolf really began and grew with many stories that have already been described. Perhaps the most ritual interaction, besides the Thursday night drive with Knaus to stock up on GAB, was Saturday mornings. Wolf worked at Collector’s Inn, while I did nothing. He would arise early and want to bum use of my SUNY Cash Card to get cheese covered=waffle fries from the glorious Spot in the basement of Goodyear. I can’t say as I blame him as this was food for a god. Many visitors came just for this delicate masterpiece. The Saturday conversation unfolded like this:

(in a Knaus like funk, as I was sleeping) “What!”
“You going to Spot?”
*loud sigh* “Yeah”

I would inevitably arise and would quickly turn gleeful as we approached the beloved waffle fries. To his credit, Wolf knew this would be the case, hence his lack of restraint when awaking me, though he always did it from the other side of a closed door.

Our third act of the Wolf/Thies combo was Comstock. Here there is not much to say as most of this blog is centered around the many hijinks this commode-like habitat festered.

Our relationship blossomed mostly around the common enemy of Thirty Puddles (named so for his bed wetting, not his spilling of drinks). It was during this era I enjoyed

letting the cat horde assault Wolf’s beloved xmas tree, and learned of his Bills outlook. He was not interested in football, except Miami, except the Bills games. If the Bills won it was the greatest game ever, and if they lost, it was the worst game ever. Consequently each week born a new watershed. After two years of success, it was only logical to continue our roommate-ship. Which leads up to Princeton.

The first year was good, some of the stories have been told, but as the second year grew on our activities together grew to a minimum, other than whatever we could do to aggravate the other guy into going to bed so we could watch the TV. Wolf sat in the dark to “create a movie theater” atmosphere, and used his infernal breadmaker, whose crumb avalanche lead to the cockroach squashing incident foretold. I’m sure more tales can be posted about this time that I care to recant presently.

Our final act as roommates was to divide up “the tapes”. Since the time we entered Princeton we advanced our technology to include a VCR. We frantically began to record episode after episode of “Seinfeld” and “The Simpsons”. We had 10-12 volumes of each. Not only was the content of the volumes timeless hilarity, but the increasingly poor quality was a reminder of simpler times that were starting to erode away. Many nights have one or both of us fell asleep on the couch (often in a drunken stupor) with one of these modern art-worthy recordings playing all night – continuing to erode the tape without anyone to enjoy the antics archived upon.

We are now in the final chapter of the Wolf/Thies saga. After Wolf had entered the Air Force. It was only after we had stepped away from each other for some time, and had to deal with “real” jobs on our own that we both admitted that we had enjoyed that last year as roommates, instead of trying to annoy the other. Wolf offered up a final Comstock-ish proposal. Upon leaving the Air Force we began playing basketball with Chris, Chet, and myself on a weekly basis. He proclaimed his embarkment on a new journey, each step to be progressed to after the successful completion of the previous step.

1. stop drinking (achieved for a time with non-alcoholic beer)
2. lose weight (basketball helped a little, with #1 helping a lot)
3. stop smoking (he cut back for a period, but never quite got here)
4. regrow hair (untouched)

In summary, Wolf and I shared much laughter over the years, and provided the other with a minimal amount of aggravation. Even at the end of Princeton we were polite agitators.

From Booger to good friend Wolf served a purpose. Wouldn’t you like to have a Wolf too?

Silence is Golden

This story is going to jump ahead of the usual time frame to a year after we moved out of Comstock. Wolf and I moved into the Princeton apartments, where our partnership in crime slowly eroded into a precarious tolerance, now that our common enemy was out of our life. This story will also center around Chris, who was just entering the usual cast of characters at this time.

Chris had been going out with Mage for a month or two. She went out of town for a week, and suggested they each think about where they wanted to take the relationship. During this week she decided she loved Chris, while, he decided the contrary. No, this is not a tragic tale of love lost. That is not what this blog is about. It is about documenting the always hilarious, and often strange, adventures of our unique clan of compatriots.

Mage was coming back into town to meet Chris Friday. All day long Chris consulted myself and Ray (co-worker) on how to break up with someone. As usual we had plenty of advise for him. I dove deep into my pool of wisdom on the subject, having never dumped anyone at that point. We gave him, what I still hold was sound advice. DO NOT DO IT AT YOUR APARTMENT UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCE! Go to a public place. We also advised him to get into it immediately, and get it over quick. Besides, he and I had a party to attend that night. As such Chris said, “How long does it take to break up with someone? An hour, two tops.” Seemed resonable.

After work Chris meets Mage at Denny’s near his place. Chris tried to get there early, but Mage had the same idea. As soon as Chris sat down at the table Mage peered into Chris’s eyes and saw the reflection of a hollow soul. “We can’t do this here.”, she said. Chris paniced and took her back to his place, only a few blocks away.

As they got into it time passed, and I was at home waiting to get to the party. Eventually I called and left a message at Chris’s place, “You done breaking up with bitch yet? We got a party to go to!” At this same time Chris and Mage were saying their final good-bye. They were standing in his doorway, as she was about tot leave. They paused as they heard the answering machine beep. Luckily for Chris he had turned the volume off on his answering machine the day before; that saved him from more talking.

Happy New Year!

It is New Year’s Eve of around 2000 (?). Matt was dating Stephanie (again) at the time (Matt and Stephanie were on/off repeatedly for at least two year, but you lose track after awhile), and I had taken Stephanie’s friend, Michelle, out twice. The plan for New Year’s was to go to some formal event downtown, but since Matt did not want to dress up he broke up with Stephanie; they got back to gather a week after New Years, so I maintain to this day he merely did not want to put on a nice shirt for New Year’s so like any sane person would do to solve this problem – he broke up with Stephanie. Due to this fracture the group split up. A new plan was quickly formed to salvage the event. The large group of us (myself, Stephanie, Michelle, Rob, Rachel, and some others I cannot recall) had dinner at Bennigans. Our group had a history of not thinking of New Year’s plans until too late, and we could always get into Bennigans, so we ended up there at the beginning of New Year’s Eve for at least three years in a row, and a few other times after that.

I should note the first time I met Stephanie, Matt barged into my apartment and begged me to go to the beach with them. He said Stephanie’s friends did not like him, and if I was there I could enjoy the beach and I did not care if they hated me; this would take the pressure off Matt as her friends could concentrate on hating me for being a jerk. It all backfired as I had a great time letting them bury me in the sand, and playing washing machine in the lake.

Back to New Year’s. The other group was Chris. He had recently met up with some girl, and it was going well. They decided to meet at Mr. Goodbar on Elmwood and see how it went. The newly-broken up Matt was not going to spend New Year’s by himself, and suddenly without a gaggle to traverse the night with he pleaded with Chris to tag along. Chris agreed, but demanded Matt hang out in some other part of Mr. Goodbar when his date showed up. Matt got a health head start on drinking, so was quite bold in stating he was going to walk over to a group of women to talk to them, but proceeded to boldly stride past them to hang out in the corner for awhile. Chris’s date, let’s call her Melanie – I can’t remember her real name, arrived and she and Chris had a grand time. Matt grew bored of the corner, and headed back over the Chris. Initially the conversation was pleasant, until Matt spilled Melanie’s wine all over the front of her dress. Melanie lived a block form the bar, and in a remarkably smooth move, saw Chris jump on the opportunity to offer his gentlemanly services to help her out of this embarrassing situation.

Melanie was quite eager to accept Chris’s help. Chris and Melanie hauled Matt to her place and deposited him on her couch in a drunken pile while they entered her bedroom to change. Their giggling and fondling were interrupted by the sound of a drill. They exited the bedroom, to find Matt with the drill to his head. Luckily it was not plugged in.

Meanwhile, back over with the larger group. We all partook of dinner at Bennigan’s with little of note. After dinner we proceeded to Anacone’s. We pulled some tables together in the back (the usual plan). The first round of drinks was quickly downed and Stephanie and Michelle went up to the bar to get more drinks. At the bar they ran into a fellow med student (male). This was the last I saw of Michelle, as she talked to this guy all night long. Eventually they moved to a table together in the back of the room, after the rest of us had moved out of there. I was not the least heartbroken, as I had only been out with Michelle twice previous to this night, and note even a kiss was add (now it sounds like the Seinfeld episode). I was miffed due to principle. More on this later.

The rest of the group at Anacone’s had a grand time. We wore hats and cajoled with noise makers the find employees of Anacone’s provided us all free of charge. Rob even took the opportunity to declare this “The Year of Rob”! He would date a new woman every month. The follow year I store his idea and declared “The Year of Aaron”. The decree payed off as Rob asked Barb out, and a relationship ensued for some time. When Rob made his decree, in loud and proud fashion, he sealed the deal by squeezing Rachel’s boob in sudden and shocking fashion. Rachel’s reaction was the usual, “Rob?!” To the rest of was surprising, yet somehow typical Rob.

Another incident was Stephanie ran into some guy who kept hitting on her, and she asked me to save her if I saw him talking to her again. Some time later I saw her backed into the pinball machine by said guy. In my drunken state I saw fit to help her out by sliding down the length of the pinball machine, to appear in the middle of the two and shout “I love you!” The guy promptly left. This was the first false decree of regard that night.

The night dragged on, and the rest of the group (Rachel, Rob, etc.) left. I was getting tired, but Stephanie decided it was time to cry over Matt. I was stuck consoling her. After 30 minutes of tears-to-anger she was fine. I decided to make my way home, as it was now about 3AM. As I opened the front door of Anacone’s here comes Chris, Matt, and Melanie.

Chris: “Where are you going?”
Aaron: “Home, everyone else has left.”
Chris: “Where is Michelle?”
Aaron: “In the back talking to some guy all night.”
Chris: “I’ll be back.”

Now, the actions of Chris I did not learn of until weeks later. He strode up to the table, “I love you!”, and laid a big kiss on Michelle. Then he left. Here is our second false decree. I later found out that soon after that Matt strode up to Michelle’s table and berated her for what she had done to me.

Back at the table, ended up Chris, Matt, Melanie, and myself. Cheerful conversation was had by all. In the middle I looked at Chris, and holding both hand out in a manner to suggest I am displaying the size of something, “Chris, I want to ask her a question?” Those that have seen the infamous “David and Goliath” video will know the question that is supposed to follow is “Do you do it doggie style?” As a side note, I surprised myself with the wear-with-all to ask Chris’s permission to ask such a sensitive question to his date, but I digress. Chris said, “Go ahead”, having the clear desire to know exactly how far his progress with Melanie could advance. My question to Melanie was then, “Do you take it in the ass?” Not the inquiry Chris expected, but Melanie, without a studder or shake, said she had, and it was OK.

In closing I suddenly recall another point of fact. Melanie had a very large chest. It was said she needed two seats… one for herself, and one for her chest. It turned out to be true as she took nearly half the table surface.

All this without Mooney. I do not even know where he spent his New Year’s.

So concludes the most eventful New Year’s I can recall.

A Complete Relationship

One night Chris and I go to our volleyball club’s night out at a bar. We bring Dan along. Dan gets drunk off on his own and we look over after a few hours to see he has found an equally drunk girl he is swapping spit with at the bar. Half an hour later Dan and this drunk girl have a fight and split up. An hour later they are back together making out. Dan had an entire relationship in one night.