Stolen Glassware and the Stratosphere

Look, I understand that stealing glassware is just that - stealing. And, at twenty-something, I really should not do it. But sometimes, you see that special glass at a bar and you just have to have it - especially if it is a cool Guiness glass and you're dragging around a giant purse all night and you just paid $8 for that pint of Guiness. Hmmmm. It just all fits together.

But, yes, it's still wrong. So is using those return address labels that charities send you and you don't send them money - but we still do it.

Friday night, K and I decided to "go out for dinner". What started as a mellow, slow evening quickly advanced into a night of craziness - again. We basically struck the entire westside of LA - from Brentwood to Santa Monica - leaving a trail of smacked rears and missing glassware.

But Rachel, how did you get everywhere? Well, my friends, let me tell you. We got everywhere via the best cabby in the whole world - Stratus - or I was calling him - Stratosphere. He drove an immaculate Lincoln Towncar and was a lovely older Greek man - he even laughed at everything that we said (which is always 10 bonus points in my book). Because of this, we hired Stratosphere for the night to drive us from place to place to place - even if it only was a two-block walk at times. He willingly obliged because seeing us sprint in and out of bars must have been rather amusing for him. By the end of the evening K and I had convinced ourselves that Stratosphere was our personal driver. Big ballers - high rollers - yah, that's us. In hindsight, we probably looked absolutely ridiculous jumping in and out of the cab and hauling ass in and out of each bar - we were on a mission, although neither of us could figure out what the mission was after scoring the matching Guiness pints. But we sure did have some fun.

I woke up Saturday morning and rolled over and there was K, sound asleep in her Boston Red Sox baseball cap and fully clothed. I almost lost it. Now that's a sign of a good night.

I'm learning that sometimes, you just need to feed that immature kid in you because even though some would turn their noses up at our recent "antics", it's proven to bring a smile to my face every time. And you know what? That's all that counts.