So here’s what happened the other night when I went to Mario’s “crib” to catch the game with his friends.
I got to Mario’s house and parked on the street. After moving my wallet to my front pocket I walked to his house and knocked on the door. Mario let me in and there were about nine guys already watching the game. Some of them were pretty colorfully tatted up. I had brought a six-pack of Dos Equis and although I thought that might look like I was trying too hard, it actually went over surprisingly well.
We watched the game for awhile uneventfully. The guys were actually pretty cool. During commercials they were telling pretty funny stories about slutty girls they knew, dumb friends that got arrested selling drugs, and why they hated all the gangs. I was really enjoying myself. Until…
BOOM! A gunshot rang out. I kid you not. Just as they were going off on gangs I heard a shot from outside and I hit the deck. I mean I was on the floor, kissing the carpet. I waited there for a moment before I realized that no one else was moving at all. They were all just looking at me.
Then Mario says, “What are you doing?” I said, “I thought it was a drive-by!” And he looks at me like I was a total asshole and says, “That was a car backfiring.”
I turned bright red. I wanted to get the hell out of there as fast as possible because I was dying of embarrassment. But before I could, everyone just started laughing in a friendly way. Mario turns to the guy with the tattoos and says, “Fletcher lives in Brentwood.”
I got over my embarrassment eventually, though they did pretend to make loud noises the rest of the night. I told them I’d have them all over my place when Scott and I throw a party. Even though I humiliated myself (and the baseball was boring), I actually had a good time.