11:32pm. I’m in my bed. My roommate is in bed. With PJ’s on and make up off we were settled in for a a good night’s rest after a day of what seemed like impossible tasks. Her phone rings.
“Hello?”
I can’t hear the other end of the conversation, but I had a pretty good idea who it was.
“Yeah, we’ll be there in a second.”
The infamous late night, drunk call from the square by our two favorites: Avery and Alex.
“They need a ride, you going?”
We jump out of bed, which I mean quite literally since neither of our 5 foot selves can reach the floor while from the bed. PJs off, shoes on, we head out. The CA’s at the front desk give us questioning looks as we exit the building, but we dodge their fire and begin the five minute journey to the square. We arrive at our usual meeting spot, the parking space right in front of Rooster’s and wait for the boys to stumble, literally stumble, into the car. Backing out of the parking spot may be the hardest part as every one feels they have more important places to be than you. We eventually find ourselves on the path to take our friends home. We see flashlights in the distance. We approach men in uniform. They knock on the window.
“License, please”
I pull out my license out and allow him to speculate if it’s valid or not. I’m sure he’s used to fakes. He asked a few questions and allowed me drive away, slowly and carefully of course. The boys were hungry. We pulled up to Cook Out and laughed as the drunken boys tried to spill their orders out. Fed and happy, we drove them to their apartment and watched them attempt to get up the stairs to their second floor oasis.
“Never a dull moment with them, huh?” said Mary Catherine.
“I don’t think drinking is for me.”