It all started with LH's brilliant idea to spike our Slurpees with Captain.
Of course, she gets a coke Slurpee and I get, Orange, Wild Cherry and Pina Colada mixed and it tasted terrible with Capt. in it.
She obviously has never made a Slurpee unsupervised before because I look away and next thing I know she has this overfilled volcano-like thing inside the cup. I took out my phone to snap a pic, and she panicked, breaking out in a fit of giggles and asking the 711 guy for help. This is pre-spiking.
We're on a mission to pick up K's bike. He left it there Saturday night. It's Wednesday- he just remembered that he left it there.
We park, and walk up to the boardwalk, Slurpees in hand and a half-empty bottle of Capt. in my purse.
"So where's this bike?"
"I don't know, probably somewhere around Jenks," she says.
"Do you know what it looks like?"
"I guess it's blue with a white seat."
We look for a bike rack and find one.
10 feet away from the rack is a bike lying flat on the ground, with the handlebars twisted and an empty beer cup dangling from the handlebar brake and an "I fuck retards" sticker under it.
"That's K's bike," LH says, pointing.
"No I think it's that one over there," I said, walking over an upright bike in the rack. "What's the combination?"
"It's 420."
I try the combo on the nice bike and it doesn't work. We try the combo on the disaster bike and it opens.
"That's his bike oh my god."
"Let's leave it here and jump in the ocean."
"Ok."
We run up to the beach and I do cartwheels leading with my right foot (I'm goofy footed!) so I flop around and pull a hamstring.
KP meets us and we spike her Slurpee too. The bottle's empty.
We play on the beach, made some Benny friends and it got dark and we left.
We pick up K's bike, unlock it and I'm about to get on the handlebars but LH tries to ride it and it's not acting like a bike should.
KP and I start messing with the chain and all the sudden there's this bike mechanic who comes out of nowhere and flips the bike upside down, rolling the tires and doing bike mechanicey things.
"The chain guard's bent," he says. "You can't ride it."
My hero.
We walk the bike to the car.
It does not fit into LH's Honda and we're laughing at ourselves as we try to manhandle this bike into the car.
Some more heroes walk by:
"You girls need help?"
I tell them no thanks, because they're not cute but LH says:
"Yes, we need help. Please help us get this bike into my car!"
Of course, she gets a coke Slurpee and I get, Orange, Wild Cherry and Pina Colada mixed and it tasted terrible with Capt. in it.
She obviously has never made a Slurpee unsupervised before because I look away and next thing I know she has this overfilled volcano-like thing inside the cup. I took out my phone to snap a pic, and she panicked, breaking out in a fit of giggles and asking the 711 guy for help. This is pre-spiking.
We're on a mission to pick up K's bike. He left it there Saturday night. It's Wednesday- he just remembered that he left it there.
We park, and walk up to the boardwalk, Slurpees in hand and a half-empty bottle of Capt. in my purse.
"So where's this bike?"
"I don't know, probably somewhere around Jenks," she says.
"Do you know what it looks like?"
"I guess it's blue with a white seat."
We look for a bike rack and find one.
10 feet away from the rack is a bike lying flat on the ground, with the handlebars twisted and an empty beer cup dangling from the handlebar brake and an "I fuck retards" sticker under it.
"That's K's bike," LH says, pointing.
"No I think it's that one over there," I said, walking over an upright bike in the rack. "What's the combination?"
"It's 420."
I try the combo on the nice bike and it doesn't work. We try the combo on the disaster bike and it opens.
"That's his bike oh my god."
"Let's leave it here and jump in the ocean."
"Ok."
We run up to the beach and I do cartwheels leading with my right foot (I'm goofy footed!) so I flop around and pull a hamstring.
KP meets us and we spike her Slurpee too. The bottle's empty.
We play on the beach, made some Benny friends and it got dark and we left.
We pick up K's bike, unlock it and I'm about to get on the handlebars but LH tries to ride it and it's not acting like a bike should.
KP and I start messing with the chain and all the sudden there's this bike mechanic who comes out of nowhere and flips the bike upside down, rolling the tires and doing bike mechanicey things.
"The chain guard's bent," he says. "You can't ride it."
My hero.
We walk the bike to the car.
It does not fit into LH's Honda and we're laughing at ourselves as we try to manhandle this bike into the car.
Some more heroes walk by:
"You girls need help?"
I tell them no thanks, because they're not cute but LH says:
"Yes, we need help. Please help us get this bike into my car!"