Meth

I was in complete awe and disbelief while sitting next to the beer pong tables on Saturday night.

No, the game doesn't intrigue me that much... the players do.

As MGH and Jose punished their opponents, I was busy staring at the kids in the next table.

talking strategy while racking shit up

To be exact, the kid in profile-- behind MGH and Jose-- was the person of interest. The kid in black.

I've known that guy since he was about eight years old. I think he's around four years my junior.

He used to be a model, as well as an accomplished baseball player (with a scholarship to USC and Stanford), back when he was in high school.

He CHOSE UNLV.

???

I had a class with him my final semester of college, which was his first, and I'd talk to him once in a while.

When I saw him at O'Shea's on Saturday, I didn't recognize him. D was the one who pointed him out, and my jaw dropped.

My heart broke when I saw his current physique... as well as his group of friends-- clear meth users.

Way to fuck up a future.

For hours, I just sat there watching the kid... unable to look away... sometimes fighting back tears. That shit isn't cool.

What would get me out of the sad-stare-trance would be MGH or J walking over and doing some horny drunk-dude shit... like trying to straddle me or squeezing my quads.

***

MGH was too trashed to go home. J was also pretty drunk, so they had to stay with us, sleeping in Rafa's room.

MGH was the unruly, emotional drunk, while J was the chill, narcoleptic drunk.

MGH didn't want to be taken home... and took a piss next to our mailbox once we took him out of the vehicle... and we spent five minutes trying to convince him to put his dick back in his pants. He momentarily walked around all over my driveway with his pants down at his ankles.

Classy.

J was leaned up against my car, where he'd go in and out of consciousness. When awake, he'd compliment the lights... professing his love for Vegas and its beauty.

J: Las Vegas is soooo beautiful ::pleased smile:: (times this by twenty)

The boys woke up at two in the afternoon, having no recollection of the night's adventures.

D had to hang out with her friend, so I was left on my own to entertain the two young men. However, since I'm not very girly, I handled my business like a champ, enjoying the day for the vast part of it. I also took great joy in recounting the previous night's antics... which the boys weren't too stoked about.

The price of getting shitfaced, homie.

Hanging out with the guys for so long, I realized they were BOTH suffering from broken hearts.

J was flirting heavily... even asking me how I felt about dating long distance.

WHOA, bro! Slow down. I met you yesterday.

While I DID find him squeeze-ably adorable (the kid's jawline is KILLER:

 THAT isn't "adorable," it's straight up HOT... he also had some gorgeous pouty lips...), I just couldn't reciprocate. 

One day, one day I'll be ok with it.