Another night out in New Orleans with Rob and Bryce begins in the same traditional manner. After pounding back a slue of Crown and Cokes and watching the latest episode of Californication, the duo is primed for a sinful night overflowing of alcoholism and thirsting of chivalry. With a visor snug on their flowing locks, a tucked in long-sleeve Polo dress shirt, khaki shorts and Sperrys, they walk out of Carrollton Hall and turn left towards the Danna Center. Rob and Bryce’s first stop is the ATM. Bryce withdraws fifty dollars and reads a balance of three hundred and twenty three dollars.
Bryce says, “Well, there’s my fight home to Kansas City.”
Rob does the same, and sees that his nine hundred dollar monthly allowance has landed.
Rob’s response, “Oh the joys of being a native. That’s a relativity limitless bar tab, a Trojan variety pack, and finally paying off my new contacts.”
“Yeah asshole, maybe tonight you’ll actually be able to see what you’ve been bringing home lately.” Bryce so cunningly retorts.
They make their way over to The Boot, where they are so politely greeted by Rob’s ex-girlfriend, Jamie, and her Pro Bowl sized friend, Sam. Like any experienced bro, Bryce keeps Sam occupied at the bar while Rob begins his courting in the corner of the bar. Bryce and Sam’s conversation blends in with “Your Love” by The Outfield in the background, and each statement becomes more and more incoherent with every drink on Rob’s tab. Sam’s comforter turned red dress slowly shrinks to a pillowcase.
Rob finishes his broken relationship and suddenly realizes that Bryce has gone astray. Also, does Sam. The couple puts their personal issues aside and attempt to figure out where their comrades went. Rob and Jamie dart out of The Boot, look left, and see Bryce being driven away in a police car. Rob gives Jamie a goodbye kiss and runs to his car. He is careful of every step as he splashes through the drainage puddles along side of the road. Rob speeds down S. Claiborne Avenue with every hope of not being caught himself. He comes to the station and asks the desk attendant if Bryce Chapman has been brought in. She tells him that he was immediately released on bail with a bank account ending 22573; Rob’s bank account ending. Rob asks to see the paperwork and is so astonished that he cannot see anything on the paper.
Rob drives home with a sense of relief, and is welcomed by a pair of purple panties on the rear of his door handle. And on the rear of the panties, “juicy.” Disgusted of this sight, Rob flops down in his bed and lays his head on his pillow.
Morning comes and Rob notices his wallet moved to his bedside with a note that says, “I’m sorry bro, I got into a little trouble last night. Hopefully your pops doesn’t see your bank account anytime soon. If he does, then I’ll take all the blame. If you’re reading this and I’m not here, then I made my flight back home and I’ll see you next semester. Have a good summer…and I’m sorry for using all your condoms. I got extra worried.”
Rob goes into the restroom, reaches for his soap scum covered contact lens case. He notices that his right lens is not in the case, so he tries to see if he may have left in in his eye. No luck. Infuriated with the actions of his friend and his own, Rob goes to Capital One to see the damages done to his account. He swings the door of Capital One off the hinges and into Magazine Street. He was not able to see the sign that said, “Please use side door.” He approaches the clerk and asks for a current statement of acct 605 29 22573. The account balance reads one dollar and ninety-nine cents. He father always told him that when he goes broke, to make sure that he has enough money to buy a sharpie.
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