So, Scott's (second) birthday party was on Friday, at Whitlow's.
It was a good time; saw a bunch of people whom I hadn't seen in a while. Got there kind of late, though (Friday night, not surprising).
Around 1-ish, they started herding us out of the back bar. Then, a little later, out the door.
Hey, we can tell when we're not wanted.
We ended up heading to Bob & Edith's, a greasy spoon on Columbia Pike.
Left a little after 3. That's when things started getting interesting.
Since I was headed back to Reston (I was sober and had driven over), I drove two other fellow Restonites home.
For purposes of this entry, I will call them "B." (a male) and "C." (a female). By the time we got out of Arlington, both of them were pretty much passed out, slumped against their seat belts,
This presented something of a problem, as I had no idea where B. lived.
I got off the toll road at Reston, and asked C. which way to go: left or right.
C. said "mrrphhh...straight."
Straight wasn't really an option, since that would have taken us to the airport. I went right.
I would have asked B., except he wouldn't wake up, even after I reached back and started shaking his leg (carefully, as I was still driving).
Got up to another strategic intersection. Again, I asked C. which way.
C. said "mmmmrrrpphhh...straight."
Straight was more plausible here, so I went straight.
After a few times asking C. for directions and getting muffled, seemingly random responses, I decided that we didn't want to head any deeper into Herndon, and turned around, heading back to C.'s house, since I figured one out of two was better than nothing.
Eventually, C. woke up enough that she was able to get us to B.'s house; I pried him out of the car, dropped C. off, and then headed home.
Fortunately, I still knew where I lived.
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