Saturday Night’s Alright

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So the wonderful folks at the Daily Post want to know about my last big night out. Don’t they realize what a dull thud I am? I think that would be like an ancient history lesson. I don’t have big nights out anymore because what used to take hours to recover from now takes a week to recover from.

320px-Flickr_-_FXR_-_Cut_Copy_(Fans)Although, I must admit, I did go to a friend’s house a few Saturday nights ago and watched some movies. And I stayed out until 11:00! That’s right, 11:00 PM! I was shot all day Sunday. Never made it past the couch. Thank God for Hotpockets or I would have starved, because I wasn’t to be trusted with the instruments required to cook a regular meal.

Ah, but there was a time when old rudyblues could scorch a Saturday night. I recall one particular session when I lost my car. No, not like coming out of the mall and forgetting where you parked. I mean waking up the next morning in my own bed, grabbing the keys, heading out the door, and no car in the drive. I asked my roomies at the time. They had no clue. I had no clue. The cops said they didn’t have it. It was just gone.

A couple days later I was riding with my buddy in his car, down a street I had no recollection of ever being on before, and there it was. Pulled up to the curb on the wrong side of the road, the front wheel on the curb, the back wheel in the street. To this day I still don’t know how it got there or if I was even the one that left it there.

Maybe those Saturday nights are why the latest Saturday nights are so dull.

Image by FXR from Paris, France (Cut Copy (Fans)) [CC BY 2.0 (, via Wikimedia Commons

Saturday Night

Author: rudyblues57

A fellow traveler in our journey around the neighborhood thermonuclear explosion. Full of random thoughts and esoteric observations about the human condition, how we treat each other, and other detritus of life.

2 thoughts on “Saturday Night’s Alright”

  1. Oh I’m sure you have some great stories of your young life Saturday nights. I know I do. I didn’t catch this topic on the daily post. Maybe I’ll have to write about the time I had to wheel my friend in a wheelchair that was borrowed from the club we were occupying through a Vegas casino where she then threw up in a trash can next to a guy pumping away on a slot machine who kindly asked “is she ok?” Hmmm look buddy she’s in a wheelchair puking in a casino trash can and I’m pretty sure that’s toilet paper in her hair from passing out in the women’s bathroom where I luckily found her and am now returning her home safely. Yes that’s a true story! Are you laughing yet? Cause I am …it will be a story I will tell my kids when they are old enough to drink. Actually my youngest and I share the same bday and when she turns 21 I will be 60…I’ll save it for that night!

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Everyone needs someone to wheel them through the casino up to a slot junkie so they can puke. It’s good for them, and for the slot junkie! After all, that’s what friends are for! BTW, beer just shot out my nose when I read that. Might you should warn your daughter about that before you share that story, kind of as a courtesy thing.

      Liked by 1 person

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