He's.... a little different (people reading this that know him are now laughing and saying "a little??!"). Top-notch guy, smart and funny; I just like to think of him as a little... sideways.
Anyway, he's back. Back from a terrible place of danger and confusion- and no, I don't mean Home Depot. In fact, in typical Johann fashion, he left early from his assignment and didn't hardly take any of his belongings. A couple of t-shirts, a urine-cured rug, and 2 headscarves (one for each of us.)
So what do you do with a guy that's been sober for 4 months, hasn't slept in 3 days, and is still adjusting to a 9.5 hour time difference? Get'm drunk of course. That's why I'm here.
We decided to go for a low-key restaurant type place with seating outside to enjoy the weather. Friends show up, which is neat as some of them had no idea he was back (in typical Johann form he shows up almost completely unannounced). Tall mugs of brew are evaporating at our table and continually having to be refreshed.
Behind us was another table where two girls were enjoying a nice, quiet dinner. Of a sudden, Johann gets up and sits down at their table. I knew one of the girls (Doe) but not the other. I don't think Johann knew either of them (we'll call the other SA).
My great regret of this weekend is not recording the random and out-of-nowhere comments that an increasingly drunken Johann threw out to this table (we joined their table with our table, Captain Planet style, after awhile).
At one point I wrapped a chicken wing in a napkin to give to Johann as a return gift, but he was a no-go there. Instead he offered the last remaining wing to Doe, who politely declined. Johann pauses, thinks, and
Johann: "You're really stuck up."
Doe: not sure how to take this. Looking at me for help
Caleb: "He may be right. I think everyone at this table would be more comfortable if you just ate that chicken wing."
Doe: awkward laughter. SA looks at us like "are you serious?"
A short time later this conversation happens:
Johann, to SA: "You know, I watched you when you walked inside. And that... (pointing to crotch/butt region) that, is, uh... It's just really nice. I mean no- seriously. I'm not just saying that because I'm nice or I think you have bacon. It's probably the best.. yeah. Best ass ever. Can I just call you sweet ass for the night? I'll probably just do that."
She didn't react negatively, and I think in a way she was charmed by Johann's honesty. In fairness, I later sneaked a peek when she walked away (by "sneak" I mean "ogle") and would give her ass a solid 8 (amongst other things).
Through the night Johann recounted his harrowing journey through Qatar, Amsterdam, and -even worse- Atlanta. He spoke of "Operation Douchebag," shitty bosses, and bacon. He professed his love of sex and made suggestive looks at any woman in a 15 meter radius.
I didn't realize it then, but Johann had somehow gotten hammered. After everyone else left I took the man to a neighboring bar. It took quite some time, as their was much weaving and bobbing about (with an occasional dance move) going on, but we settled in with some Guinness at a table outside. Johann saw a big girl at the table in front of us and told me confidently that he "would never fuck that. Seriously." I'd say 50/50.
1 minute later: Johann passed out, chin bobbing on chest. He claims that he's "made some calls" and that someone is coming to get him. Disagreeing, I wake him up to get him home. I won't go into the 5 minute, 50 feet journey of awkward stumble-dancing, but suffice it to say that we got some looks. Fuck 'em.
In the car:
Johann: "Let's. Let's. I say Taco Bell. You like Taco Bell? ::giggling:: Let's go to Taco Bell."
Of course I get this man his burritos, which he refuses to let me pay for and instead thrusts his bear-cub covered debit card at me.
Caleb: "Johann. I thought I told you that this debit card was too gay and you needed a new one. This is me disappointed."
When I pulled up to Johann's house, the following situation happened. This is a true story. In fairness, the man had not been home for months.
In front of his house, waking him up.
Caleb: "JOHANN!! Wake up. Your burrito's on the floor. You're home now."
Johann looks around in confusion. "This looks familiar."
Caleb: "Because it is the place where you live."
Johann: "No... I live... elsewhere."
Caleb explains to Johann for several minutes why this is his house and that he is, indeed, actually home. Johann leaves the car and stumbles to the sidewalk. Then he turns and goes the opposite direction. "I think it's up thisaway" he claims.
Caleb sighs. "No, no it's not. It's right here!" Caleb leaves the car, goes to turn Johann around and try reason. Good plan, Caleb.
Johann: "Let's just drive up a block. One block. I think we're close."
Caleb agrees, commences driving away from what is, in fact, Johann's house.
Johann: "Turn left. I think this is it."
Johann: "Now left again. Yeah. Familiar."
Johann: "Wait. This isn't it. What street are you in?"
Caleb: "Johann. What is your address?"
He says it.
Caleb: "Then wouldn't it stand to reason that you are on the street that your address is?"
Johann: "Yeah. No. Yeah- just... take this left. I think this is it."
Caleb: "Johann- we've weaved through every block in a 3 mile radius. We are now literally back at your house. Again."
Johann, with sudden excitement: "No! Wait! I got it. Just take this left. Take it. Do it. Take this left."
We proceed on the same not-leading-to-Johann's-house route that we have 3 times already, and disappointment crosses his face when he realizes that his plan does not lead him home. It's now been about 15 minutes of weaving through streets and listening to drunken Johann give directions. He refuses to acknowledge that his house is his house. I get a flash of inspiration.
Caleb: "Hang on. Lemme show you something."
I drive a half block past his street and pull into the alley. Bingo- there it is! His car, shiny and gay in his parking slab.
Johann: "Hey that looks like... wait. It is! My car! I think I'm home. That's usually where I park."
So he finally gets out, offers me the floor-burrito, and stumbles into his backyard. Not sure if he made it in or of those burritos got ate, but at least he finally agreed it was his house.
It's good to have this guy back- there will be many stories involving him forthcoming. I promise to record some of his best and share it!
PS some of you might be wondering what happened to old Caleb that night afterwards. Well, in short: drank lots, found a couple hot (yet annoying) cuties to flirt with, got kissed on the mouth by a dude, grabbed my 3rd grade girlfriend's ass in front of her husband, and stayed up until 4 or 5 debating whether some making out was worth putting up with annoyance. It wasn't. Maybe that's part of getting older? Regardless, it's been a long weekend. Okay, week. Allright, fair enough, I've pretty much been on a college-style binge since I went to Pittsburgh. What did they put in the water there?