The cultural hub of the midwest

Wednesday was Johnny's 32nd birthday, so we went out for drinks to celebrate. There was a whole group of people who came and she got a bunch of drinks as gifts. People started taking off and there were just a few of us left: R (Johnny's friend who went to Italy with her), J ( Johnny's coworker), me and Johnny.

R and Johnny were talking and there was some skeezy old guy with an arm sling at the bar staring at R's legs. I gave him a dirty look and he kinda gave me a guilty shrug.

R left and J and I were telling Johnny about the nasty dude. She's a little protective of R so she started thinking of ways to get Skeezo back. They'd noticed that he was wearing penny loafers and white socks earlier, so she thought she'd go steal his pennies. She walked over, but there weren't any pennies so she casually picked up a napkin from the bar and came back to further assess the situation.

She thought maybe she'd take his sock instead. J agreed that this was the best course of action. I started laughing.

J is like the little brother she never wanted. They should maybe never drink together.

I'm still laughing off how ridiculous that would be when Johnny gets up and walks over. J says to me: you know, if she takes the sock, we need to get out of here, right?

Johnny takes Skeezo's foot, removes his penny loafer, takes his white athletic sock from his old foot and returns to the table to finish her drink.
Then she picks up the sock and leaves the bar.

J and I pay our tabs and head out to the parking lot. Skeezo's friend had followed her out and was halfheartedly womdering why someone would take his friend's sock. He may have called her bitter.

Johnny hung the sock on the sign for the pita place next door.

Happy Birthday.