Needless to say, the debauchery started the moment we closed the trunk of the car and hit the road. Our beautiful driver, David, couldn’t even get us out of Vancouver without two incidents of getting lost. What seemed like days later we finally made it through the border and into Seattle. After quick showers and some last minute primping we were headed to a house party on Capital Hill. It was a collection of all our favorites from Vancouver, Seattle and Portland ready to paint the town red – in our typical only-a-60-of-booze-will-suffice style.
The night exploded into supreme awesomeness when Kevin showed up to the party, complete with birthday balloons! Somehow, the Seattle boys managed to keep a secret, and the Canadians reactions ranged from screams of joy to messy tears (sorry Kyle and Stephen). The party eventually shifted to the local hotspot, The Cuff, where everything and anything could and did happen. After four shots of Tequilla and one consumed hot dog, by me and Stephen respectively, we shuttled over to the late-night Mexican diner (and I use diner VERY loosely) to eat our faces off. Thanks to our newly appointed friend – Stephen from Alabama – I managed to get an ounce of water in my system to save myself from complete destruction. Bless his heart!
I woke up Saturday morning blissfully unaware of how I got home, whose bed I was in and who undressed me down to almost nothing. Thankfully we caught a ride (and therefore didn’t have to stumble across the bridge), I was in my hotel room and possibly undressed myself?! Night #1 = success! Before I knew it I was being pushed out of bed and off to brunch on Broadway Ave. Before making it to the restaurant the crew popped into a Rite Aid drugstore to grab some hangover relief pills. After wandering through the aisles for a few minutes, I stumbled upon a beautiful girl and I just couldn’t pass up the opportunity to introduce myself. Her name was Olivia, she had ferocious style, and we became instant best friends. After a short $30 transfer of funds for her friendship, we were off – adding one more to our crew. She. Rocked. My. World.
She spent the entire day with us; from cruising down the highway, pit stops at the grocery store for beer and McDonalds for a snack (duh), all the way to Alex’s place that he was house-sitting. Through the day and several beers in Olivia finally conceded and allowed us to make her over, in preparation for the dance-hall festivities later that night. I must admit the look was FLAWLESS.
The Canadians eventually parted ways (with Olivia always on my mind) to head back downtown for the Saturday night performance of Wicked. Now, if you haven’t seen this musical, you MUST. I have officially named it the musical of the decade and no amount of money is too much to spend to see this splendor live. It is truly fantastic and the two leading ladies on the American tour are PHE-NOM-E-NAL!
I could seriously write forever about how amazing Wicked is; however, I am awful at doing so without giving away the entire plot. For those select few of you who have yet to read the book, you know who you are; I would hate to ruin the element of surprise. The witch dies in the end. But you already knew that, from the Wizard of Oz!
The night progressed from there to the packed lounge/bar/club, Purr. I’d never hit this spot before and although the atmosphere was decent I wasn’t impressed with the non-American cost of drinks. I was used to triples for $4. Purr does not serve this option! After a few shots (once again, courtesy of Alabama Stephen) there was a coin toss for the next pit stop on our whore-tour. The decision = R Place. Holy mother of eff-dom to love it there! The music was bumping, the people were stupid-fun, the poles provided a place for Alabama Stephen to rest his ass, and Kyle was Hip-Hoping his way from stud to stud. If ANY of you are reading this and you remember meeting a boy named Dakota Fanning, hit me up and I’ll get him the message.
Unbeknownst to us, R Place shuts down at 1:30am – I know right, that’s like lunch time! So we quickly moved the herd over to the Cuff for one last dance off. Random Insert: In case you haven’t noticed, there has been no mention of Olivia through this part of the story. That is because, heinously, our friend decided to RIP HER ARMS OFF on the way to R Place (she was waiting in the car while we were at Purr, due to harsh ID restrictions), and THREW HER UNDER A CAR. Needless to say, he shall remain nameless, forever.
After another dose of awesomeness at Rancho Bravo (the Mexican ‘diner’ from the night before), complete with Matt leading the group in a cheer routine, we headed off to our respective beds. Overall the trip was one of the best weekends of my life filled with amazing friends, stiff drinks and a helluva lot of laughs. A special thanks to Dakota for being such a good sport and accepting your legal name change, and to Olivia – may you rest in peace.