He Fake Invited Me On A Trip

One morning Cal the Cop text messaged me that he was drunk-golfing with his best friend, Joe. A few hours later, I received a text that drunk-golfing had turned into drunk-trip planning, and the two of them were sobering up and heading down to Atlantic City for the night.

“You should come,” he said.

“Nah, I’m not cool enough to ride in a Camaro,” I replied, knowing full-well he was just messing with my head as per usual.

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A Bar That Led To A Boy That Led To A Memory

This afternoon I’m heading to Atlantic City, which I like to refer to as Little Vegas. This reminds me of a night I had three and half years ago in Nuckie Thompson’s town.

I was with my good friend at the time, Regina, and we were on one mission: Find boys. We had just turned 21, and had never been of-age in AC before.

Our quest began around 11PM, when we realized that there were zero cute guys in Casbah (a local club). I take that back — one (a fireman who danced with Regina for a little while).

We decided to take our adorably-dressed shoes and walk around the hotel, scouting them out. That’s when I spotted a cute guy sitting at a casino bar.

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