Hey Chico! Continued

When I realized my shorts were no longer on, I went to look for them. But in my drunkenness I saw a taxi that I mistook as a police car and ran around in panic yelling, “Cop! Cop! Everyone hide!” Then as it drove by I recognized that it was a taxi. I told everyone it was a false alarm, and that everyone should resume drinking.

When they started drinking, I started to look for my shorts again. This time I was determined to find them. I ran around the neighborhood yelling, “Has anyone seen my shorts?!” Of course I got no responses, but looks of pure confusion, astonishment, laughter, or all of the above.

After I ran around the block a couple of times I got tired, so I went and drank on the neighbor’s lawn. This is where my friends found me the next morning. They woke me up, and in a hungover haze, I could have sworn I passed out on a disgusting carpet. I soon realized it was grass.

That’s when I told everyone about my missing shorts. They all laughed, and then told me some creep probably found them and took them. I was adamant that I needed to find them otherwise I was not going home. I got up and walked around the block one last time. I was about to go around the corner, and there they were. A mangled, ran-over ball of blue jean shorts. I was elated that they were back on my two legs where they belonged. Once I found my shorts, everything was golden. I could go home and crawl into my bed. And that’s exactly what I did. I dreamt of rock 'n’ roll all night and parties every day.

After this night I was more than sure I was ready for college. Later my mom found my shorts and asked why they had black stuff all over them - I told her it was marker. She shrugged, threw them in the wash, and never asked about them again. She still has no clue that the black stuff wasn’t marker at all, until now. It was tire tread marks.

Any thoughts or opinions email Kayla HERE