It was one of those stupid sort of nights. Everybody wanted to go out, fine. Whatever.
I spent the bulk of the six unnecessary hours standing in the corner hoping that none of my friends noticed I wasn't really interested in how this whole thing is supposed to go. Drinks that make you stupid, girls chesting towards attention they don't really want. I guess I don't resent any of it, hard as that is to believe. Still, in those six hours not once did I see a menu or something with prices listed on it. I saw a jar for wet t-shirt contests, but there was no price on that either.
I guess it was about one-thirty in the morning I decided I was done. Surprised I stuck with it that long. And hey, why not just stick out the extra hour until we all get booted anyway? Maybe someone buys me Denny's or something. But, no. I was done. Fuck it.
Walking home by yourself isn't so bad if you've never done it before. Even the mediocre parts of town have those quiet hours where no one's home from the bars and everyone else is in bed. It's relaxing. The cold, hollow sound of solitary footsteps on a sidewalk. Well, for me it's relaxing.
I must've been about a third of the way home when it happened. On one of those nondescript streets towards the north end of the Mission District. A flash of light. Bright as all fuck, man. It sort of ripped out from an alleyway in a line. It wasn't like a flashlight... it... you know, it felt like an object, not a beam. Like giant ball of sunshine blasted out of a cannon.
What do you do when you see something like that? You sort of peek down the alleyway, but you sure as fuck don't go down there right? So I did. I peeked. Peeked and saw this amazing, beautiful, shimmering, waif of a girl. Pale as death but GOD DAMN did I want to buy her some pancakes and get to know her. Some attraction that I can't even describe. That was when I started running like Gump. I've seen way too many movies to even start messing around with that sort of shit.
It was supposed to just be a leisurely walk to clear my head and make my friends like me a little less, now I'm running full tilt through the mission like a coked up psychopath. Not screaming or anything. Just... you know, full sprint home. Three miles.
There's a comfort in standing in front of your door, just sort of looking down and getting the key sorted out in silence. Hey, everything was going to be fine, right? Kerchak. NOPE. There she is, on the fucking floor bleeding some kind of crazy bitch glowing mother-of-pearl goo blood onto my hardwood.
That's when I passed out.