Elephant Hunters?

Written By: brad luck 27. Nov, 2008 0 Comments

So recently I’ve had this feeling. It isn’t a good feeling. I smoked my last cigarette right before I went to sleep last night. This morning I woke up with this crazy hang over and craved a smoke like you’d crave pussy in the middle of a 20 year bid. I throw my timbs on and stumble down my stairs and out the door. I get in my car and turn the music down. Apparently I was drunk as shit driving home last night BLASTING Life of Agony. Thats just too much to wrap my head around with this hang over. I start off down the street to the 711 cutting my eyes back and forth across the road. I made sure my glasses weren’t covered in finger prints but I’m still having trouble seeing. Maybe I didn’t wipe the sleep all out of my eyes. Whatever…I’m on a mission. If I’m not smoking in the next 45 seconds something bad is going to happen.

I get to 711 hop out of the car and run full speed through the doors and up to the counter. “Pack of Marlbro Menthol Lights…please.”. My homie Khan tosses a pack of smokes on the counter and places a pack of matches on top of them. “I’m good with the matches.” “6.50$.” I swipe my card and run out the door ripping off the plastic and pulling out the foil. I plop down on the hood of my car and spark a smoke. With the first drag I slump down and blow the smoke out of my nose. My eye closed i recline against the hood and my back cracks. This is the best I’ve felt in forever. The first smoke of the day is always great…but when you’ve got to get up and actually go out to get it…you feel acomplished. My first smoke of the day turned into a trophy as opposed to a gimmie per usual.

I get down to the filter and flick it as far as possible and get up to get back into the car. I search my jacket pockets for my keys. Not there. I dig my hands down into the pockets of my sweat pants. Not there. I start to panic. I press against the front pocket of my hoodie. Not there. “FUCK FUCK FUCK!!!!” I run back into the store and up to the counter. “Khan…my keys…did I leave them in here?” “No, buddy.” I stumble back out to my car to face the invevitable. I creep up on the side of the car and peer into the window. Yeah…in the rush for that first smoke of the day I ended up locking my key in my car.

Is it a big deal? NO…I only live about 5 blocks from the 711. Its not a huge mountain to climb to get back to the house and pick up a spare. Still…its a pain in the ass. On a positive note…at least I know where my keys are. I was pretty fucked up last night. I barley remember getting home. At least I know where my car is. Things could be way worse. I got to smoke a champion style smoke. Yeah…my keys are locked in my car butt everything is gonna be okay. I pull my shit together and start pushing my feet in front of one another to make my way back to the house to get my spare. Things could be worse.

Thats my giant drunken metaphore for tonight. If you get it, you get it. If you dont, you dont. I started drinking way too early. I might go back to the bar. Peace out.