Murtaugh said it right, "I'm getting too old for this shit"

  I almost titled this "I kissed my apartment floor when I got home". After an insane night, I felt like it. My friend wanted to go out for her birthday. Having had a bad week, I tried to not go. Then, I felt bad and realized it was for her, so I went. Remind me never to do selfless things.
  After work, my friend, her cousin and her annoying on/again off/again boyfriend and his friend met at my apartment. They wanted to "pre-game". I had not idea what that was. Apparently, you drink obnoxiously before going out to drink. Let me set the scene- Shelly, completely blitzed and ready for whatever. Ian, her cousin and designated driver. The friends, drunk, one dressed in Halloween slut wear. Me, SOBER. I just wanted to leave and get the night over with. Finally, around 11:30, we left. We drive crammed into one car to River City bar. They were having their Halloween celebration. Only two of us were dressed up-girl and me as Rosie the Riveter. As we get there, Shelly declares that she left her license at my apartment. We drive the twenty minutes back to get it. Get back to the bar, and it's $20 dollars to get admission. I'll pay that much to see a concert or a good comedian. To get into a fucking bar in Wheeling? Hell, no. Shelly decided to go to the Owl's Nest bar, or bane of my existence. I hate that place. They notoriously steal people's credit card information. I just want to go home, as does Ian, but we tread on for Shelly.
  As we're walking back through downtown Wheeling, Shelly sees her friend's bar. It looks like it was a freakin' Bone, Thugs & Harmony reunion straight off St. Clair avenue in Cleveland. At this point, my mood was dwindling to pure annoyance and I flat out refused to go. One, I feared for my well-being. Two, I really dislike her friend. She acts like she's never met me every time I meet her. And, she once gave me love advice after telling me a story about hitting her boyfriend with a frying pan. Yeah, think I'll pass on this fun time. Shelly goes in alone to say "hi" to her friend while we wait on the street. Finally, she emerges and we walk back to find Ian's car. On the way, Shelly declares she can't find her i.d. Mine you, she's been dropping all her possessions like Hansel and Gretel with breadcrumbs. However, she insists someone didn't give her i.d. back. This becomes my silver lining. Without that i.d., she can't get in anywhere. But, having some drunken hope, she insists on trying to get into the Owl's Nest. It's almost one at this point. Girl wants to stop at her house and change out of Halloween slut outfit. Hey, what's more time? I've only been up since six in the morning. We finally get to the Owl's Nest and I realize there's no God, because they let her in without her i.d., despite my prayers. Does the night get better? No. I then run into this guy who was friends with my ex, Joe. We hung out a few times, played poker, watched movies. We were friends. One day, he declared his love for me. I explained that I didn't feel the same. He defriended me on Facebook. Flash to this night- drunken and angry at me, saying I wrote him a message saying he was an "asshole". Not true. I may think things about people, but I rarely tell them. I hate confrontation. So, it's VERY awkward. Eventually, I convince him I didn't write this and smooth things over a bit. This is after he looked me directly in my eyes and told me he thought he was a sociopath. Ian and I confessed our plan to escape to the car and text Shelly to ditch her friends. She had wanted to earlier, but now we were totally on board. Before it seemed rude, now it just seemed like a necessity. We get shielded by my sociopathic friend and make our escape. He stops me before I escape, asking "You're not going to ditch me are you? I need to pay my tab." Lying, I nervously shake my head and then Ian and I run. We hide in the car, repeatedly texting and calling Shelly. Normally, her phone is up her ass except for tonight. She's too busy being charmed by the local drunk who was buying her drinks. Twenty minutes later at two, she emerges. With friends. Plan fail. They all want to go to another bar. ANOTHER BAR! I'd had it. No, I want to go home. Ian did, too. He was sick of being a chauffeur. Thing one and thing two wanted to drink more. Assholes. Luckily, Shelly refused and we headed home. I say home because I stupidly offered a place for everyone to crash if they drank. Hindsight is twenty/twenty, right? Luckily, we dropped loud girl off at her house. We got home. I felt like kissing the damn ground of my apartment. Shelly and annoying guy took my bed, while Ian and I slept in the living room. In the morning, I woke up to an annoying droning noise that I thought was snoring. Nope, just this kid's super-annoying, monotone voice. Finally, he left. Thank God for Ian. He was my only saving grace that night. He kept my sanity. We suffered together like it was the battle of Normandy. We both love Shelly to death, but couldn't lie when she asked if we hated her friend. I might have elaborated on that fact too much. We do love her and that's why we suffered. It was all for her. We spent more time in the car than we did in any actual bars. Birthday girl had the front seat. I was wedged between monotone and slut wear, singing in my ears the whole ride. The whole night made me envision rolling myself out of the car at high speeds that we couldn't reach because so many of us were packed into this tiny car. I can totally laugh about it, but, at the time, it was hellish. Very reminiscent of Griffin Dunne in After Hours. Maybe next year, we can do something more enjoyable like hit ourselves in the head with hammers.