I was jogging at about three minutes to midnight.
You see, i started off the night at Amy’s house, where there was a live band but where i knew hardly anyone. At about 10 i left Amy’s, promising to make it back for the ball drop, and headed to a second party at Karen’s. However, when i reached Karen’s house i found that i really didn’t know what floor she lived on, and stood on the porch dumbfounded for a minute or two, thinking i’d have to go back to Amy’s. Luckily, my friend Carlos showed up with no less than ten people in tow and proceeded to ring all four of the doorbells repeatedly until Karen came to the door to let us in. I knew slightly more people at Karen’s, but i found out that Carlos had arrived from his house party where nearly all of the Drexel Players had been stowed, so i eventually wound up there.
The Players were a blast, as always, and the highlight of my night was definitely a rendition of “Silent Night” done with a “Yo MTV Raps!” keyboard patch. However, when i looked at a watch (not mine, cause i didn’t wear one) i saw it was five minutes to midnite, and i had exactly five blocks to travel to make it back to Amy’s. After losing a minute to wrestling my way past a drunken gorilla-shaped acquaintance who wanted me to stay, i hit the streets at a jog. I nearly gave up halfway there, but i didn’t hear any shouting or anything, so i figured i still had a chance to make it. I go to Amy’s (almost breaking poor Tim’s nose when i flung open the door) with 15 seconds to spare on the countdown clock. Winded, i plopped myself down on a couch and joined the countdown.
That’s a story about jogging, which gets your blood pumping.