Dear Cruddy,
Oh God. What did I do? I... I can't think of a thing. Was this before or after the fight? Unless I... no, no I - are you just trying to make me paranoid, not that I have anything to be ashamed of if you know what I mean but - I - I was a good boy smiles shyly
Right let me relive this before I tell you what I've been dying to tell you ever since I posted that first letter there. We had a few beers back at your place before we went out. Met the guys at the bar. Had more. Had shots. Tried... absinthe... wine, there was a lot of wine.
And Schofield gave me and Silvestri some curious looking cocktail and made us race each other, see who could drink theirs first. It got a bit competitive, I remember that much, I remember racing him six drinks in a row but at this point we'd moved on to shots again. Four shots and I coughed and spilled mines down my front. He won. Theresa laughed, she was laughing with Tricia and then... took me away. But we didn't go outside by this point. We went to the bathroom, the ladies'. And then Tricia came in and laughed again, apparently we were away damn near an hour but I can't remember word one of whatever it was we were talking about inside that hour.
Was it what I said or what I did? What happened? Come on man, I'd put you out of your misery! And it was months ago so I can handle it. I'm over it. If, if I knew what it was. Well, hell I don't even care. I mean, what's the worst that I could have done that I should be held responsible for with that much alcohol inside me? Saying that... that was only the start of the night, we were drinking long after that because the scuffle with Brett wasn't until last orders. Timed well, huh? Well, like I said, I don't care... much. Aw, just tell me what I did!
Anyway! I'm not going to be sucked into your little mind games, Will Krudski, not this time. I have one thing to tell you. I met an angel. I crashed my Pop's car and - no - didn't see a white light. I crashed into this perky little blonde. The happy Potter we tried to envision, a bit like Theresa but she talks faster. Sorry, she crashed into me, it wasn't the other way about, and she totally freaked out because it was the patrol car I'd borrowed without asking this time. Suffice to say I'm grounded but Goddamn it was totally worth it!
I'm very emphatic today I've noticed. Meh.
I proposed to Theresa, didn't I? How's this only coming back to me now? Aw man, I dragged on Tricia's arm, slammed the door closed after her and told her to be our witness. That's why Trish was laughing when she entered. She'd walked in on us, me on bended knee, Theresa shaking her head and pissing herself laughing at me.
Right. Ignoring my time spent in your life, I'm going to finish my story. I can't believe I forgot that though...
So her name's Andie. Andie McPhee. She's cute and all, but that's not why she's special. She knows Kristy Livingstone and - and - and now look whose hands are sweating. She's agreed to set us up! You don't believe in fate? Well, dude, I'm no longer metaphorically blinded - like that ah, that Oedipus guy, except I don't go sleeping with my mother. My point being, I have the wealth of knowledge, it's who you know not what you know and I am definitely a believer in fate. If she hadn't have crashed into me I wouldn't be seeing Kristy tomorrow night. Ding, ding.
I dyed my hair. Do you remember two summers before sophomore I'd bleached blonde? Well, not quite so drastic this year, and I have the opportunity to cut the blonde out this time but... well, yeah, you get the point. In giving myself a Caesarean section and cutting out that bowl haircut thing I had going on for too long, it got me thinking; D has a boyband-esque haircut...
I'm away to get me some soup. I'm in the mood for tomato. Oh, and some bread! Some bread and butter. Not that cheap imitation margarine slab for cholesterol-busters and the big'un diet-iste. I don't think I have to worry about the thick of my middle for a few years yet. It's only usually sucking on too many beer necks that gives us Witter boys the potbelly; so maybe I'll switch to low-fat Fat if or when my life coincides with the frat side of college, huh?
El Eight Ar
Pacey J.