NASCAR is in town and it usually backs traffic up for miles from home so I leave 40 minutes earlier than usual to avoid the traffic that I think is coming. Turns out, I show up for work almost an hour early, and as I pull up next to Elliot's car and turn off my ignition, my phone rings.
"Hello, this is staffing. Do you want the night off?"
"....Ummm, I would've said yes forty minutes ago before I got to work, but I literally just pulled up, so no."
"Okay."
... and then I realize that I don't want to stay at work tonight and I'd be stupid to refuse being able to stay at home, so I call back in two minutes, taking the opportunity immediately... and promptly cackle in enthusiasm.
Less than an hour later, I'm at a bar with Rick, a wedding planner and a shitload of magazines.
What ensues is a lot of odd-ness consisting of us looking through the intricacies of
cake-cutting fees and the types of flowers that are in bloom for particular seasons in between sips of alcohol. We flip through the planner and he looks genuinely appalled that there are so many things to consider for a wedding; we take turns dog-earring some pages that have things we like. We come across a hideous dress,
that Rick says remind him of the flying Nimbus from Dragon Ball Z.
...and I can't help but agree.
I don't have to go to work, I get to drink aaaand I end up eating more wings than Rick.
Win much? YES.
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