No single gum double freshens your mouth like….

Last night was First Friday, which started out promising. When I first got out of my car and was walking to the event, two really pretty girls who had just moved here asked me for directions basically on where to go and what to see. They were dental students and sisters which for some reason reminded me of those “Double Mint” chewing gum commercials from the 80’s because they would have been cute enough to star in them.

They were All American girls from Texas, and since they were studying to be dentists, I mentioned that they must have had good brushing habits…and also felt a little self conscious on whether they would therefore be obsessed with teeth and inspecting mine… making a mental note of any flaws or evidence of neglect.

Anyway, I told them to follow me. We walked together, chatting it up until we got to Roosevelt…but I didn’t want to overstay my welcome so I introduced myself and then was on my way. They said they hoped we’d bump into each other again in the evening which would have been a minor miracle but didn’t end up happening so the best I can hope for is that they have the curiosity to lurk me up online and friend me.

Almost immediately after that as I was walking around looking to distribute promotional materials…I managed to find 5 bucks on the ground. Needless to say, I was feeling pretty damn good about the evening so far….well that was the high point unfortunately. I met up with Jonathan, and we walked around but didn’t really accomplish any of the things we wanted to do. At the main stage, in between bands, there was a dance group that was doing a routine
vaguley reminiscent of the “In Living Color” style numbers that I remember seeing cheerleaders and drill teams perform during endless high school assemblies of the 90’s. We both decided it was time to get out of there…and we were off to spend another wastefully traumatizing evening at Casey Moore’s where nothing too interesting happened.

I was planning on attending that “Wow” party that was going on at Martini Ranch, because many of my friends were involved, and I wanted to support them. However, it was 25 bucks…and the last time I went to Martini Ranch it was nothing but Scottsdale bros and girls gone wild, with a few cougars prowling about. I kind of wish I would have wen though because I could have potentially met some new interesting people. So as it was, what I should have done is just went home immediately after finding those 5 crumpled up dollar bills on the ground, kicked back and daydreamed about time machines.

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