New Years; Revisited

So I had this story I was going to share, but due to time constaints, I didnt havea chance to write it out...

After the festivities at the gas station, and long after everyone had gone home, the night got quite quiet...

Occasionally a cab or two would stop in for some gas and some napkins... I can only assume the kind of mess the revellers were leaving in their vehicles (if it looked like our bathroom, I wouldnt be surprised)...

Anyways... It was quiet... and it was POURING rain outside, when in walked a man and a woman from outside...

Now when they opened the door, she was already screaming and having a fit. I've watched enough movies to know that screaming is a very effective distraction should you want to steal something, so I was watching very intently to make sure nothing was being pocketed, and more or less completely ignoring what she was screaming about...

She grabbed a handful of gum packages, threw them at him, and then stormed out of the store...

He, at this time, was now giving me the "can you believe her" look... SHe was outside having a cigarette...

I asked him what was up... and he confessed...

See, they had met at the bar, and through a somewhat lucky mix of drinks and dancing, he had convinced her to head back to his place...

He, being a little drunk, did not pay attention to where the had been dropped off, and the cab had in fact left them at the wrong house, in (I would assume) the wrong neighbourhood...

I feel the need to interject: cloverdale is your typical whitetrash suburbia. All developements built in the same decade look just like every other developement from the same decade... So I can understand, in a drunken state, recognising a random neighbourhood as being your own neighbourhood...

Back to the story...

In his drunken state, he, falsely, claimed to know where they were and how they could easily walk to his place (New years Eve, your chances of phoning a cab company and getting a cab within an hour is slim to none anyways, he told her)... So they set off on foot...

After wandering around aimlessly for some time, he claims to have recognised where he was (again) and that he knew a shortcut through a field that would take them to a street that would lead them to his house...

Apparently it wasnt the right field, because bisecting the field was a LARGE irrigation ditch, which in the dark, and in a drunken state, they ended up trudging through...

At this time, I would like to point out that I could see in the fluoroecent glow of the gas station canopy that her pants (from her shoes to her mid thigh) were stained brown from the mud they had trudged through... I blame the yelling when she was in the store for not noticing it before... But her white jeans... yes, white... were brown.. no... almost black from the mid thigh down... Meaning the ditch the trudged through was most likely 2 feet deep in mud...

He of course, was wearing black pants... but I assume he would look much the same, had he been wearing white as well...

Now, somewhere in the muckey-muck, she dropped her cell phone... SO she wasnt able to call for a cab, or a friend, or a family member...

And so after wandering around in the rain for a while, they stumbled upon the gas station...

With that his story ended...

He asked me to phone her a cab, he bought a pack of cigarettes, and then told me he was going home...

And so he left...

As he was walking towards the street, she yelled a choice few four letter words, to let him know how much she loved him... And he walked away...

Thankfully the cab ended up comming right away... Although, I would have tried to do my best, the situational humour would have been too much for me, and I would not have been able to keep a straight face if she had come in and trieed to turn it into a sob story...

So the moral of the story is... umm...

Well... I guess, don;t hook up with random people at the bar, and then follow them through fields after they realise they don;t know where their house is...