Metcalf on the sofa, I know, I know, it's serious.

Last night my friend T spun his bi-monthly Morrissey Smiths night at Delilah's. For the first time in a long time, I attended. I used to, back in the day, before the E2 nightclub tragedy caused all Chicago bars to scale back on events, work the door for him upstairs. My job was to charge everyone who entered three American dollars to come in for the show. This was a great job for me (read: another great way to meet girls) and I had permission to buy myself beers out of the till. I also spent that time talking with the bartender, a beautiful, tattoo-laden woman with a very, very good sense of humor and a frighteningly good taste in music. We would make fun of all the mod kids who came in, too, as neither of us are particularly big fans of Morrissey or the Smiths.

Anyways, that was then, this is now. I showed up last night knowing I was supposed to meet a friend of mine there. What I didn't know is she brought out another friend that I hadn't seen in more than 6 months- I hadn't seen her since before she got married, and she hadn't seen me since I was with Red, so she didn't know about my newest dating screening process question. More and more of my friends showed up, and the bar was packed to the gills with the usual crowd of hipsters and the slightly out-of-place Morrissey fans. We caught up, and finally, I had reached my limit. I had a headache, and I just can't stand to listen to that man's music for that long, so we opted to head north, back to my neighborhood.

A quick cab ride later, and I was in my own stomping grounds. My buddy and I headed straight to the pinball machine at Goldie's. Much beer was consumed. There was a lot of pinball played. Finally, that dreaded moment: closing time.

My old roommate and I were hungry. We headed home and ordered a pizza. Not the wisest of choices for me, but we were in a pinch. We ate. I put in his favorite movie and hauled my tired ass into bed.

I woke up this morning, and thought to myself "hm. I should be feeling like shit right now, but I'm not. What gives?" I got out of bed, walked into my living room and was rather surprised to find my old roommate passed out on my couch. This used to happen a lot, even when he had his own bed here. That couch may not look like much, but it is damn nice to sleep on.

So that's how I got my day off and running- and because it is so damn nice out, I'm thinking about hitting the bike trail.