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Too Late, Trotsky is part blog, part journal, and completely pointless.

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4 December 10

Non-designated Driver

It’s been snowing all day in Southwest Virginia. So far it’s accumulated about two inches total, which is enough to coat the grass and be a pain in the ass when you want to drive somewhere.

Now, I live with two friends in a college-owned apartment located about a mile from main campus. The annex campus also has two fraternities, a sorority, and an empty building. Remember this, it might be important later.

I just dropped one of my roommates off at her car parked on main campus. As we left our apartment, we noticed that one of the fraternity houses was throwing a party.
“Huh,” I said. “Seems kind of early. Must be a cocktail.”

As we drove around the bend, my suspicions were confirmed as a handful of young women in very short skirts/dresses/shirts that look like they could possibly pass as a dress if the wearer is small enough exited a black sedan that looks fairly similar to my Honda Civic. Except for the fact that it looks nothing like my Honda Civic.
“Oh look,” I said. “They ordered strippers! That’ll be one hell of a party.”

After dropping my roommate off, I returned to my apartment’s parking. A young man in a shirt and tie and a young woman in a very short dress wearing her date’s coat were standing in the lot, apparently waiting for something. I slowed down since they were standing where I wanted to go. They began to approach the car. Confused, as soon as they were out of my way, I sped forward, twisted my steering wheel, and parked in the open spot.

After exiting my car, I decided to use a blank but ruined poster-board to clean off the rest of the snow from my windows. Meanwhile, the couple who thought I was the frat party’s designated driver stood confused in the freezing cold, wondering why no other cars were rushing to the parking lot to pick them up. 

Themed by Hunson. Originally by Josh