Groups Part 4

Time marches on, bars close, and there's nothing left for my people but to go home. Their limousine bill is now up in the many hundreds of dollars, and they've stayed out way later than the original plan called for. The shine is off the evening.

Given the disparate aims of the folks, factions form. The factions sit together and sometimes snipe at the others. People fall asleep, or pass out, as the case may be. But there's one thing on which almost everyone agrees: it's time for some food.

The message comes quietly from the back at first.

How about some greasy food, Wombat?


Yeah, let's do T.Bell I hear someone else say.


Do they have In N Out here in Florida? some out-of-stater will ask.

Pause.

I want pizza says another.

Once they have made the group decision to stop (which will cost more money of course, we're still on the clock here) it almost doesn't matter where we go. I have all the 24 hour fast-food joints along the Interstate memorized, so I'm good to go.

But here's the problem. At that time of night, only drive-throughs are open, and the good people at The Bell and McDonalds and Burger King neglected to build them (the drive-throughs) for stretched limousines. We can't make the turn around the building, so I have to park somewhere adjacent and the folks must order on foot, so to speak. These places have rules. You cannot order at the pick-up window, mostly because at 3:30 am they're running a skeleton crew. What my folks do is line up as if they were in a car. Imagine this. Car with people ordering at the ordering station, car behind that one, two or three of my people standing waiting in line, swaying and slurring, car, car, and so on.

They give their order, and shuffle around to remain in line between the cars. When it's their turn at the pick-up window, you can see the guys trying to be cute with the minimum wage slave as if she were the most beautiful women ever. If it weren't so late, and I wasn't so tired, I'd be laughing my arse off. And still the night is young.




Pic from here.[link]

Edited for clarity.

Also published here [link]

Groups Part 3

When the folks return from their first stop, I can tell who wants to keep partying, and who doesn't. In general, one or two of the guys will be drunk and they want the night never to end. One or two of the women have had enough to drink and they want to go home. The rest are somewhere inbetween.

The problem comes down to money. Once alcohol takes over, inhibitions disappear, first among them the inhibition to spend money.

Drunk guys say:

Accchhh, c'mon honey, we're having a good time. Let's have fun! Have a drink and relax!

The women who want to go home say:

This is costing us $1.75 a minute, while they give the drunk guys withering looks.

Not that it's always a split along sex lines. There are plenty of girls who are with the 'who cares' program, and sometimes they lead the push. But in general, it's the guys who lose control.

Now I can't see much of what happens behind me. Once they discover the divider, it rarely goes down, and only then to shout unintelligible commands at their erstwhile chauffeur. By now we have probably stopped at our second bar, and might even be on our way to the third. By now people get lost, and we have to wait for them. And by now smokers want just another cigar or cigarette before they load up, so we have to wait for them. Some of them go to find a friend so that he/she can come along with us.

So the group is split into three factions; those who want to go home, but are resigned to their fate; the normal ones who are tipsy but reasonable; and the drunks and smokers and planners and completely oblivious who just wanna keep doing what they're doing until they fall on their face or wake up the next day with a giant grey/green hangover.

The tipping point will come at around 1:00 am. We are more than likely to be either at the Seminole Hard Rock Casino in Tampa, or at a strip club. If at the casino, one of my people will do something to attract the interest of the security people. Those folks tolerate little. If at a strip club, someone will need to come outside for a puke. It's surprising to me how these little events turn an evening, but turn it they do.

Fortunately, bars in Florida close at 2:00 am or only slightly later, so there is nowhere to go thereafter. Or so you might think.






Picture from here.[link]

Also published here. [link]

Groups

It feels like a good idea at the time. Call around to a group of friends, propose a night out in a limousine, rev up some interest, and then set a date. Do some homework by asking around a few companies for quotes, figure out how much it will cost, let everyone know. Enthusiasm rules, and so you go ahead and book the limo, and look forward to the night.

Fast forward to three weeks later, the evening of the planned party on wheels. One couple can't find a sitter. Marcy just got foreclosed on. Steve is having a huge blow-up with his girlfriend, and doesn't know if he can make it.

Around this time, I roll up in the stretch. It's probably nine or ten on a Saturday night, and everyone's already well lubricated. So what if we're down three or four, we'll just make up the difference with a few extra bucks. Right! Everyone who's coming here? Let's go!

The arc of the night follows a pretty well-worn path. It's quiet in the passenger compartment for the first ten or fifteen while folks acclimate. Then the drinks take effect, everyone relaxes, and the noise level rises. Oftentimes this is the point at which most people are enjoying themselves the most. They've got the right amount of alcoholic buzz and they see that it's cool to be in a limo. Then things start to unravel.



Pic from here. [link]

Also published here. [link]