Kangaroo

It's 330am and I just got in from hanging out at a Kangaroo gas station all night, from 11pm on. I know it doesn't sound like fun, but when BS (whom I was visiting at work) and I get together, EVERYthing is hilarious. We met a bunch of folks who stopped in, remembered crazy stories from our past (the time we shot a rifle with drunk hicks in Macon in the middle of the night in the middle of the country, the time we drove 110mph to Savannah for St. Patrick's day to stand in beer up to our knees, the time we brought a video camera into the ghetto and the drug dealers blocked us in until we cut the tape off) and cleaned up the place to make it look like a million bucks. We ate candies galore while sipping soda and YooHoo, and then we delved into our recent past and explained each other's reasonings for not really calling the other in a while. Now, on April 2, she's getting married. Things are different now. We can't just wake up in the morning and say, "Let's go on a road trip this weekend!" But apparently we can still spend 4 hours at the Kangaroo shooting the bull with random strangers (a disgruntled ex-Kangaroo employee, a self-proclaimed country star from Nashville, a man who soundlessly slid up behind me like a ghost, freaking me out and making me ask him if he was flesh and blood.) BS is great. Together we're fearless. I hope to go back and see her soon. You'd never think that a gas station after 11pm could be so exciting. :-P