Entropy Towards Boring

So last night was a pretty good illustration of the tendency Pants and Taylor and I have towards not really doing anything. Sure we may make plans of some sort, last night we had scheduled to the minute between my dinner date with Sabrina to seeing the Sharp Like Knives show to seeing one of the bar shows afterwards. But between laziness, tardiness and cheapness, and the general feeling that we'd pretty much rather just sit outside and shoot the shit with each other, we just ended up chatting for the rest of the night.

Notable events included when the travel agent who booked our Pearl Jam flight came up and talked to us at Victoria Row. There are also stories involving nudity and the drunk father of this crazy girl we all used to know introducing the boy she's about to marry, and Pants, the one brave member of our party saying "that's great, I'm going this way now." while me and Taylor, the other coward, had immediately got a safe distance away to laugh quietly to each other while Pants fended for himself. But we had to explain "Look, pants, us being there wouldn't have spread out the weirdness, it would have magnified the weirdness and taken it to a whole other level." He wasn't buying it.

After that we just walked to Pants place, discussed pseudo-relationship drama to once again re-affirm my steadfast avoidance of any and all dramatics in interpersonal relationships. Then we pestered the weird dude who works at the Irving for a bit and then left Taylor to chase his dreams and Pants and I went to his place to listen to some tunes before I walked home.