The Scene Was rocking, All Were Digging the Sounds

So, here's the deal. Tonight started out so fun, but then got bad and then worse. Basically, when we went to leave at around midnight, my car was dead. Luckily, K. has triple A and she called them to come and help us. I was oh so very tired and I think K. was too, but my friend T. just drank a HUGE shot, and was wired for sound. She was really, really funny and kept asking us to look at the imprint her face left when she smushed it against the car window. It took a while for the tow truck, so T. decided to walk home. K. and I waited and the guy who answered the call was nice, but kind of creepy. You know how you get a weird vibe from certain people? Well, I've learned to trust my instincts on that. I don't when it comes to dating, because apparently, I'm very gullible, but my creepy guy vibe is working strong.

Turns out, my battery is bad. The creepy guy kept trying to get me to let him install the battery for me tonight, but I just wanted to go home. The last thing I wanted to do, was sit in my car in my Halloween costume and wait for the guy to go back to the shop and then come back and fix my battery for 100 and some dollars. So, he dropped me and my friend K. off and K. was smart and made a point to ask me to call her the minute I got home in front of the creepy guy, just in case...In case what? I guess, in case I ended up buried in his basement somewhere.

Then when I got home, I thought I'd check out the cool photos I took, and realized my camera was missing. I remember having it at the Dublin Underground when I took it out to take a picture of a guy named Tommy, who was dressed like Elvis and his wife Monica, who was dressed like a seventies groupie, but then I thought I put it in my bag and locked my bag in my car before I went to the Picador. So, tomorrow I'll check the Dublin to see if I left it there, I might check my car better, but I won't check with the creepy guy, because it isn't worth finding myself buried in his basement.

The end.