I growled or snarled and issued multiple expletives at the notion and said that all I want is an ice cold beer and to turn my goddamn radio off. "OutLaw clear and off com.. no wait, Simon. Simon. Will you come pick me up in the Temple of Golf Cart? NOW, please! Clear.. an off com."
After Simon torturing me, like only he could do so well.. and a run in with Washoe County Sheriffs Dept pulling us.. making us stop because we were for doing doughnuts in the middle of the ghetto and I had an "open container" in a golf cart which is, we were reminded, a motor vehicle. I had to pour out my cold Sierra Nevada for which I was displeased. That was a long 10 mph drive, with traffic 5 mph, trip down 5:30 and to the other side of Center Camp (behind First Camp) with me maniacally switching back and forth between cursing the alcohol/girl abuse and laughing at the idiocracy of being pulled over in the Temple of Golf Cart.
We arrived back to an abandoned Bunnywood/Bollywood (i.e. Raspa and Lady Bee's Art Dept grouping also secret home of the Junior Staff Meeting) and I grasped another cold Pale Ale and flipped the cap off and... in walked a pile of ridiculously dressed in holographic panties with pink and purple fur coats and nothing else even though it's 40-50 degrees raver hippies announcing themselves with "IM A BUUNNNIIIIIIEEEE!!"
That was the comment. I wished for that moment I had a pistol at least because, we were surrounded! "Arrgh.. go home ya damn hippies." They left and I remembered I work for this rave party thing and that's annoyingly the coolest thing ever. Some things never change...
DPW A Team 2000-2005