September 29th 2012
“Olive. There’s a note for you at the door.”
I was freshly awoken and ready to reminisce with my lot of friends about the ridiculous shenanigans that occurred the evening before until I realized
Nicole was nowhere to be found.
…Where was she?
Well the last time I saw her was…shit…I’m not entirely sure…she never made it home…at least I don’t think…but I’m sure she’s fine.
“Olive. There’s a note for you at the door.”
Harper called me from the front of the apartment. We both looked
and saw this:
I flipped the piece of paper over revealing a $40 taxi ride receipt claiming she had traveled all the way from Brooklyn at approximately 4:56am…what the…we never even…went to Brooklyn…last night…
I sprinted >>>
n the stairs and through the doors
of the neighborhood coffee shop
In desperate search of my missing friend.
Not in the booth.
Not in the bathroom.
She was gone.
Nicole was wandering barefoot somewhere in NYC…and I had no idea where.
I became frantic. We were currently housing her at our apartment, and she had nowhere else to go. Her scribbled note was the only evidence I had of her survival. I asked the employees. They knew nothing.
I ran to the meet the rest of the group..
“I can’t find her anywhere. I don’t know what to do.”
“Okay Olive, don’t freak out. Let’s just recount what happened and I’m sure we’ll be able to find her. What happened when the 2 of you separated from the group last night?”
I watched as Andrea, Kate, Harper and Krissy faded into the background, no longer in the sight of my inebriated vision. Nicole and I were sKIPing a few blocks behind when we spotted a stationary trolley.
OMG A TROLLEY.
And went inside.
We lounged on the benches, tWIRled on the poles, broke out our most insatiable moves, dropped a few beats,
a man POPPED uP from the back end of the vehicle and yelled
“WHAT ARE YOU DOING ON HERE”
We screamed. He screamed. We screamed again.
Apparently this trolley was this man’s personal home and our un-welcomed break-out dance session and live karaoke were indeed disturbing his slumber.
“…Okay so she was she kidnapped by the trolley man…or…?”
“Shit…what happened after that…no! No, we left.”
“Alright good! That’s a start! Alright Olive…continue…what happened after that?”
Okay. So. We fled the scene of the hit-and-run trolley dance session and scurried over to a bench to recuperate from the startling incident from a few moments before. We parked ourelves outside of a falafel shop extremely terrified and only slightly hungry.
we heard a voice to our right
A man was standing there with two spoons.
Apparently he was an employee from the falafel shop and had a few extra samples to spare
“I say would you like some a hoomus?”
Nicole chimed in
“I hate hummus. But I’ll eat that shit.”
We graciously accepted the two spoonfuls of hoomus not realizing that our final bite would directly coincide the ending of Saar’s shift.
“My shift is DONE DONE! Would you ladies like to…go out?”
I looked at Nicole
And then she looked at me
And then I looked back at her
“So you guys…went to the clubs…with the hummus guy…and that’s why…you were late to meet us?”
“This is all true information.”
“Alright…just…continue the story”
So we frolic with Saar over to a to bar called the “Grey lady” in the lower east side. He puts his arm around Nicole and then puts his arm around me and then I dropped some sort of line like “Hands off, Hoomus! You’re cramping my style.” And it really wasn’t until 30 minutes later when I snapped out of it and was like “…Christ Olive. You’re in the middle of nowhere with a Falafel employee. This is a terrible idea.” So I grab Nicole’s arm leaving Saar in the dust and jump in a cab to meet up with everyone else.
“Oh wait, yes! I remember you two showed up together! But didn’t you leave with us from there?”
So I walk into Dorian Gray’s and I look over at Andrea who had somehow discovered this accessory on her commute to the bar and looked like this:
And suddenly everyone is d i s p e r s e d and before I know it Nicole has hand-selected a man in stripes in the far corner of the bar sporting one of the top 8 creepiest smirks I had ever seen.
About 20 minutes later the gang decided that pizza was indeed an immediate priority and it was time to round up the troops. I very willingly broke up Nicole’s self-inflicted romance and explained to her that we were leaving and although she was reveling in the throws of 3am bar love with the creepy stripes, it was probably in her best interest to go.
She told me she wanted to stay.
I asked her if she was sure.
She said yes.
I told her I would buy her pizza.
She said no thanks.
I cried pizza tears
And said okay but that I highly encouraged her to follow me on her way out. But when I hailed a cab, jumped in and turned around….she was nowhere to be found.
“Wait…so we left her at the bar with that guy?”
We left her at the bar with that guy.
Andrea, Harper, Kate and I sat at brunch, in the midst of wondering how in the hell we would find a shoeless, abandoned Nicole who left her own personal ransom note in front of our apartment door that very morning when suddenly my phone rang.
“Where the fuck are you?!”
“I’m in your bed.”
“…What the…how did you get into my apartment?”
“I’m not sure I just got here.”
“No…but seriously there’s like a double bolt lock on my door and you need a key to get into the building. How are you in my apartment right now?”
“I don’t know I just kind of walked in and got in your bed.”
“…Good to know…”
“Yeah so whenever you get back I’ll give you the lo-down on whatever happened last night.”
After a nice round of multi-grain pancakes and an unparalleled glass of chocolate milk. I shuffled home. Kicked down >> the door to my unsecured apartment and asked her what the fuck happened.
Nicole began to explain her accidental disappearance from the night before.
Apparently after we had left, she agreed to jump into a cab to Brooklyn with Creepy stripes…and after one hour and a half of wandering the Brooklyn premises…their conversation went like this:
Creepy stripes: “Hey so…where’s your place at…we’ve been walking around for a while now and uh…I’d love to come over.”
“…I’m not from Brooklyn…I thought you were from Brooklyn…”
“…I was just following you…”
“I was just…following you…”
“So neither of us are from Brooklyn…”
“I’m for sure not.”
“So…we’ve been blindly wandering around here for an hour and a half and…no one lives here.”
“That sounds about right.”
“I need to pee”
“Yeah me too”
After exchanging turns peeing in between two stolen Dodge Chargers on the streets, while the other was on look-out, they decided it was in their best interest to head back to a place that didn’t have barbed wires shielding every apartment complex and Nicole hailed down the ever sketchy “Evelyn’s car service” vehicle at 4:56 a.m. leaving Creepy stripes behind…in the 3rd most crime-ridden barrio in New York City.
Nicole demands the taxi driver takes her to Olive’s abode all the way in the upper east side. For a general visual:
One hour, $40 plus tip and tax later,
Nicole had arrived.
“I was drunk. My feet hurt from my hour and a half trek with…wait I don’t even know his name, maybe Liam?…Anyway. I attempted to get into your apartment realizing of course that…I don’t live there to which I naturally asked the neighboring coffee shop employees for help to break into your facility to which they responded “Absolutely not.”
Next thing I know I threw off my shoes in distress, borrowed a pen, wrote you a ransom note, and purchased some hot chocolate. Then, I waltzed back into the very coffee shop to which I had extremely recently requested breaking and entering assistance…barefoot and…proceeded to fall asleep in a chair in the back room of the cafe (which may explain why you weren’t able to find me ) and what was supposed to be a cat-nap turned into a full blown REM. That’s right…that is where I spent the night…in a coffee shop…Olive.I. Spent. The. Night. In. A. Coffee. Shop. And when I woke up at 11:30 a.m.. There was a man sitting directly next to me writing a novel, students flipping through their flashcards, families enjoying light hearted banter during their mid-morning brunch all with a drunk girl spilling over the corner recliner…without shoes, hugging her clutch, passed the fuck out on this chair that was facing the entire restaurant in their view…”
“And then you somehow broke into my apartment and…now you’re here?”
“That’s right. Also. You know how I have a terrible habit of giving my number to anyone and everyone?”
“Charged my phone and found these gems”
“I know. Also, I emptied out my purse and found this”:
“I think I’m just going to take the night in tonight…”
“Yeah, I think that’s probably for the best.”