Man oh man, what a night.

Singular went out for drinks after work yesterday with a friend who works next door to her. She says she'll be home at eight, I say, don't worry about it, stay out as long as you'd like. But when I hadn't heard from her by midnight I called the bar and they said she'd cashed out her tab an hour previous. Okay, she's on her way home. By one AM, still no sign, and visions of murderin' rapists and the cold hearted city are dancing through my head. The what if the Lopper got her?!?! Especially since she hadn't called and she wasn't answering her cell phone.

Well, I called the house of her drinkin' buddy and she was there. And wasted as hell! She had been drinking whiskey straight from 5:30 till 1 AM, on an empty stomach. She was too happy drunk to get pissed at, and I was just relieved that she was alive. It was actually pretty funny. I'm not the type of guy to keep reigns on her but I do worry like an ol' mother hen.

So then comes a Singular trademark. "Do you want me to come pick you up?" "No, I'll take the train." "You sure? I don't mind. Why don't I pick you up?" "Nah, I'm fine, really." Then I hang up and start getting ready for bed. The phone rings. "Can you come pick me up?" Guadalupe says I should just ignore her when she says she doesn't need a ride, and go get her anyway. She did the same thing the night before after a seminar. "Need a ride?" "Nah, I'll be fine." *click* *ring* "Can you come pick me up?"

That's okay, though, I get my revenge at dinner time. "Are you hungry?" she asks. "No, I'm fine." Then as soon as I smell food: "Can I have some of yours?"

So I pick her up and she is sloppy! It was a treat to see her that drunk, and sooo happy. She's giggling and laughing... she's a really fun drunk, not the kind that makes you embarrassed to be around. And since usually I'm the fool and she's the reserved one, it was nice to switch roles for a change.

I take her home and pawn her off on Lupe, who's watching a movie. It wasn't really fair but heck, it was about 2AM, I had to work, she didn't, and she can handle it. That's one woman who can handle anything. I go to sleep.

Then Lupe wakes me up. "She's going to take a shower." Uh oh. She can barely stand up, and nowhere in Lupe's lease does it say that she has to see either of us nekkid. So I make sure Singular doesn't hurt herself in the bathroom, get her some ice water (which she refuses), put the trash can next to the bed (which she doesn't need- the woman is invincible) and she passes out.

Right at that time (3AM) Brooklyn comes home from the Abbey with six rock'n'rollin friends from, well, Brooklyn. They're out here for a gig and need a place to crash. They have two big jugs with them: Rock'n'Rye and Rebel Yell. Oh boy. Gabriel fuckin' flips out, and when I try to put him away in my bedroom, he goes tasmanian devil on me and adds to my growing collection of cat-scratch scars on my forearms. Parents of children have photo albums, I've got my forearms. "Remember this one? That was the time Singular threw the toy mouse, and it landed on my lap, and Gabey was up on the cat tree..."

So I pass out. I set the alarm a little late, thinking there's no way in hell Singular is going to work the next day. But sure enough, she's up and ready, something that has always awed me about her. She can pull an all-nighter for the hell of it. It's like she needs no sleep like some creepy android.

We exit the room into a wasteland. There are rockstars passed out all over the floor. The place is trashed. It looks like the Oval Office after Dubya bought an eight-ball. Eggs all over the kitchen floor (eggs?). Pictures knocked off the wall and broken glass everywhere. My monstrous aloe plant scattered to the winds, the pot looking like someone sat in it. The stereo pulled out of its cabinet and scattered around the living room. And that's just what I saw as I shook my head and headed out to work.

Folks, I only have a few things that are precious to me. Everything I own was lost in a flood the year after I left college, and consequently I'm not so attached to material things. So I did a quick check. Laptop- okay. Cats- alive. Expensive antique mirror that we're keeping because Singular's boss's wife hates it- okay. I chuckled at the chaos and left for work.

This is the sort of thing you can't get mad about unless you come home and the place doesn't look like it never happened. You can't expect a rockin' party to be cleaned up by 7AM, but you can expect it by 7PM. Lupe's got a different opinion, since her bedroom's right next to the common area and she says they were blasting the radio and playing their instruments until 5.

We'll see how things look when I get home from work. I'm sure it will be as spotless as your house when your parents get home after a weekend away and know that you had a party because the place is too clean. If not, I'm going to start knockin' heads together like muthafuckin' Moe.