it’s October 16, 1989.
Dribble: Southwest Airlines will give us lots of miles if we fly from Detroit to Toledo and back. Meet me tomorrow in Ann Arbor to play commuting for dollars. You can come back on Weds.
Now it’s October 17, 1989
Dribble: Welcome to Ann Arbor. The flights for miles deal is all “fail” and shit but my father-in-law will buy us dinner at the White Castle of your choosing.
Me: Do they have them in Maui?
Dinner ensues at Some place that is not Pretzel Bell…
Me: Since we’re in Ann Arbor, let’s find a bar!
Dribble: Which one?
Me: All of them!
Dribble: How terrible.
Me: Yes. I think I will skip my Wednesday class!
Then beers and silliness and stupor at some unknown person’s apartment.
Me: Hey, baby…
Dribble: You should sleep on the couch, while i go sleep behind this locked door.
Me: You’re probably right.
So that was the San Francisco Earthquake for me. No Tracers on fire. No mysterious marks that look like hickeys (to the untrained eye). More of Dribble’s friends think you’re a dumb ass. SSDD on that one. Karma is generally pleased.