I was going to write a hilarious moment-by-moment account of my Opening Day experience with Brad but the truth is, it would have looked something like this:
8:37 am: Open 1st beer. Take shower with said beer in hand.
10:01 am: Arrive at Brad's. Brad and I play 'Thunderstruck' by AC/DC for 90 minutes while consuming many beers.
12:15pm: Arrive at Comiskey Park. Consume many beers
***scene missing***
5am: Awake in Brad's bed with no pants on.
I know that somewhere in the middle, I ate a kosher dog, tried the new 'Ball Park DiGiorno' pizza stand, left the game early since we sorely underestimated the weather and were freaking freezing by the 7th inning, went to The Rail on Damen Ave to eat and kill 2 hours (drinking) before the Bulls game, drank 17-20 beers between the two of us before, during and after the Bulls kicked the living shit out of the Celtics, smashed in some more pizza and arrived back at Brads.
For the record, that was 15 hours of drinking for the two of us. It's been a while since I tied one on like that. Our bartender at The Rail even bought us a totally superfluous shot of Jameson. She really, really didn't need to do that.
Oh, and the White Sox won. So, except for the part where I woke up on Brad's couch, went to his bathroom and instead of returning to the couch, I just crawled into his bed with him, it was a pretty good day. He might beg to differ.
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