'That Guy'

Friday meant it was time to meet up with Team America plus The Flattie (formerly the flatmate) and her crew for after-work drinks at Ryan's Bar, a massive outdoor space with a big fountain in the middle. All well and good until a couple decided they should fall/jump (we're still not clear) into the fountain, only to be dragged away by security.

As the night continued I got progressively more intoxicated (funny how that happens), and eventually did what I've done a couple of times before -- decided that it would be a fantastic and responsible idea to take the bus home at 1am instead of a taxi. And so begins the tale of how I became 'that guy'.

So I stumbled onto the bus clutching my Indian chicken wrap, leading the bus driver to scold me for not finishing my food before I got on. That should have been embarrassing enough, but apparently I didn't agree.

I then sat down in the only remaining seat (probably elbowing the elderly and a pregnant woman out of the way), and somehow started talking to the people around me. This included an American girl sitting across from me, and it went a little something like this:


American girl: Where in the states are you from?
Zander: New York.
American girl: Oh okay, I'm from New Jersey!
Zander: Sorry about that.
American girl: That's not nice.
Zander: Neither is New Jersey! 'The armpit of America', in case everyone else here was wondering.

I proceeded to rag on the Jerz as loudly and obnoxiously as I could for a good 5 minutes before it was time for me to get off the bus.

Zander: Oh this is my stop!
Random girl: Thank god.
Zander: Hey, take it back!
Random girl: No.


I should seriously just get 'WINNER" tattooed on my forehead.