When I arrived home after working on Memorial day, I found Josh and Dale and a bottle of whiskey. I said "no" to the whiskey but said "yes" to a bunch of wine....and a little beer. We listened to King Kahn, Afghan Whigs, Soledad Brothers, Harry Nilsson, The Ramones, and some Stooges. All the while, we drank. One glass of wine became two - became three - became more. Then, we went into the living room and played music. The boys mostly played. I mostly sang. It was a good time, indeed. At some point, I knew I had to escape into the bedroom. I had to work the next day and things were getting blurry in a hurry. Sleep was the solution. As Josh and Dale chatted in the kitchen, I snuck back into the bedroom and hit the hay.
The next morning, I found four folded sheets of paper in my purse:
(S.M.W. are my initials)
I laughed and could imagine Josh as the culprit. I could practically see him writing out the letters as Dale looked on and laughed.
I made it to work and decided to make a little doodle for my old pal Josh. I ended up making two and sending them both to him in separate e-mails. I did not say anything in the e-mail, as I thought the picture was enough (worth a thousand words, right?)
(T.R.J. is Josh's wife)
After receiving the second e-mail, Josh responded with "maybe still a little drunk?"
After work, I was talking to Dale and told him I found Josh's notes in my purse. Dale then told me that he wrote the notes after Josh left.
Josh knew nothing about the notes.
So my pictures must have seemed quite out of the ordinary.
Uh-oh. I had some splaining to do! I called Josh right away and told him all about how I thought he wrote the notes and blah-blah-blah.
It all made for a good laugh in the end.