The drunken ticket

Yesterday our little group took a wild ride to the Technical University of Lisbon party.

Skipping the discretional introduction, it was just like any other Young adult parties, with lots of alcohol and shouts. I state once again that these things aren't my ideal Friday night arrangement, neither are they ever a backup plan. As friendship seems to mean sacrifice, I took one for the team.

(I would just like add apart from the post I intend to write, that our little three person group, although it hasn't grown in authors it has grown in friends, for It starts to become regular the junction of a new member that later will be given a nickname, where there were three are now four)

We went there basically to meet some long lost-of-sight colleagues, giving them the same old don't give a crap dialog, and I must confess I was a little curious about one of the performances. Moving on… There we were meeting some of Jack's and deWinter's friends, having to talk to some tang-out dog, who just don't shut up with his stupid no good for nothing stories, and being a fancy beer coup holder.

Thirty minutes there and I thought hell had frozen, because I was having the feeling that I was in hell, and it was freezing. Making it ideal for more drinks to be served and poured down the young audience mouths. Forty minutes and I lost count of the number of people standing by de edge waiting for their dinner to find its way back out, and the night was only starting.

Then I just lost track of time and went in a search for something to eat, striping myself a part of the group, for a while. And for that while I thought to myself, how these people can call this fun, I was seeing people going up and down none of them seemed to be happy, just hopeful, for whatever it was in their mind to fade into the night. But then I realized what's fun for me is totally different for them, so for one hole night I'll give them space to enjoy themselves, having little to worry.

And back I headed to the group, and there they were all together in a circle, shouting impossible to hear sounds, and laughing of the little they could interpret. Some turned and asked me if I was alright, I gave a negative answer, explaining strait away that it wasn't nothing physical, but more in the psychology branch. Their stupefied faces became confused ones, so I quit my attempt to make myself look smart and just said the magic words "Just kidding".

The time for the main event came and my expectations were high… until it started, I don't know if it was my mood or the acoustic, but the show didn't feel right. The group dispersed into pairs departing into all directions. Leaving me and Jack alone, in the middle of the crowd. We steeled there for a little while, and discussed how something was right; the show didn't fill anything like it. We tried for some time to find what the problem was, but eventually we quitted and went up to the hot dog kiosk for a real treat, and to sit down for a while. We talked about what were we witnessing, and how could people enjoyed themselves in this situation, tearing my give them space idea apart. It was a depressing sight, people in the corners making a lot of noise, and drinking beer, soloing shots of alcohol, people on the side bending down grabbing their stomach, cursing the last drink they had and praying for all to come out nice and easy, while the people on the center just stood there in their little groups, with one coupe of cursed liquid on one hand and a cigarette on the other, shouting drunk speeches, and walking zigue-zague.

After a long time observing and a well behaved discussion we clarified that neither of us is going to ever enjoy this little social tradition.

The concert approached its end, and we decided to go in search of deWinter and our just joined to the group friend, having a little approach of our own along the way, where a drunk girl zigue-zaguing through empty space complemented me in my rugby French jersey, which I politely thanked, promptly following through to our goal to restore the group. (Please don't make a big deal out of it)

The Restoring of the groups, square culminated with the end of the main event. Finally giving a pause for the girls to have a bite to eat, and up we went again. Accompanying the girls to their hunger satisfaction, like the fine gents we are. Once more we steeled on the stairs and had a chat about everything there is to chat about. Even about love and hatred towards friends and colleagues. Until we decided to finish it all off and call it a night.

This night was of little importance to our future, and it will not be marked with any significant detailed, other than this: Friendship means sacrifice, and our group is proud to make it anytime that is needed, we aren't good friends, we are just true friends. And that will stand for more than any night.

John Scar Kramer

P.S.: In the eventuality you're still thinking about the jerseys compliment, don't worry it's nothing that I hadn't heard before. And I'm no longer searching. Even if my friends don't get it.