What happens when you mix missed concerts, Pour House rejections, and AN's birthday?
This was taken in Port Authority at 5:30 AM Saturday morning. Here is us eating breakfast.
We'd been out all night but decided that the only thing that could make the night better was Atlantic City.
To make a long story less long and way more amusing. We had open containers, in public. Which I totally thought was not that big of a deal because its port authority and port authority is like a third world country whose dictator has just been shanked. Plus, one would think that the NY equivalent of a mall cop would worry more about the pimps picking up runaways than the harmless 20 something, minding there own business, eating breakfast, who just so happen to be supremely drunk and have an open beer under their chair. Anyway, I may have mistakenly left one underneath the bench we were sitting on when we got up to check what time the bus was coming.
We thought there was one at 630. FYI, should you have the same harebrained idea planted in your head by a drunken, impulsive, ridiculously awesome friend (see man in white shirt), buses don't actually start running until 8:30.
Be warned. Never a good idea.
We'd been out all night but decided that the only thing that could make the night better was Atlantic City.
To make a long story less long and way more amusing. We had open containers, in public. Which I totally thought was not that big of a deal because its port authority and port authority is like a third world country whose dictator has just been shanked. Plus, one would think that the NY equivalent of a mall cop would worry more about the pimps picking up runaways than the harmless 20 something, minding there own business, eating breakfast, who just so happen to be supremely drunk and have an open beer under their chair. Anyway, I may have mistakenly left one underneath the bench we were sitting on when we got up to check what time the bus was coming.
We thought there was one at 630. FYI, should you have the same harebrained idea planted in your head by a drunken, impulsive, ridiculously awesome friend (see man in white shirt), buses don't actually start running until 8:30.
Be warned. Never a good idea.
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