D finally said she'd come by. I told her where we'd be waiting — next to the locked car with the puddles of barf. Under protest, I was able to wrest my girlfriend away from her new buddies and out of the house. We left, with me apologizing profusely and thanking our hosts just as much.

About an hour later, D drove up. She stopped, reached over and rolled down the passenger side window of her car. I bent down a bit and started toward her. Suddenly, the spare keys flew out the window, hitting me in the chest. Tires squealed, and D was gone. "Thank you", I yelled at the disappearing tail lights, while flipping her the bird.

My girlfriend was sleeping, standing up, against the locked car. Her right foot was in a puddle of barf. I thought long and hard about leaving her there. I figured I could carry her over to the playground in front of where we were parked. I could pose her on the merry-go-round, and then just head home. Some little kid could find her in the morning, all hung-over and with dried barf on her right shoe.

Of course, I didn't do that. I unlocked the car, picked her up and placed her in the back seat. I then drove us home. Home — where D still lived. Ugh.

Anyway, I related this story to my friend at work this morning. All while that stupid ass song was playing from the radio on her desk. Of course, she was laughing so hard, tears were coming down her face. Like I said, it's much more funny when you get to hear one of my stories in person.

I really hate A-HA.