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Wednesday, May 18, 2005

EGA was home from school last week, and ran into a friend from high school who proposed that they go out that evening. I sometimes worry that EGA is insufficiently social, but my concerns are probably misplaced-- what I perceive as reticence is probably merely prudence, a quality profoundly lacking in my 19 year old self, and, some might argue, in my present makeup as well.

The friend is probably closer to what I was like back then, and as a result, even though I don't really know her, I regard her fondly, and am pleased that EGA is friends with her. As EGA subsequently related it, the evening was less than a smashing success, but it also sounded pretty hilarious. The friend, who is at school in a well known Catholic institution in the Crescent City, declared that the first order of business was to doctor up some proof, so they went to her house, where she had the necessary equipment. All it really took was a computer, a printer, and a sheet of transparent plastic. "Let me see your school ID," she commanded. "Please be careful," EGA reports she said, "I need it to take books out of the library." The compromise was to not run the thing under an iron, resulting in some pretty fake looking fake ID. The bouncer at the first bar they went to demonstrated the vigilance typical of his profession: "I really shouldn't take this," he said, "But for tonight...." and he waived them in. Somewhere along the way they met a couple of tipsy young chiropractors out on the town, and spent part of the evening trying to listen to their flirtatious conversation over the music. At some point they adjourned to the ladies' room. "How's your headache?" the friend asked. "What do you mean?" asked EGA, "I don't--" at this point I imagine the friend's eyerolling must have been nearly audible, and she picked up the subtle cue. They slipped away into the night, leaving broken hearts in their wake.

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