“Who stole my Malibu?” Gordo from Lizzie McGuire screamed from the kitchen. It wasn’t actually Gordo from Lizzie McGuire but it makes it easier on everybody if that’s who I tell you who it was.
One of Morgan’s parties. The first one of the year— Halloween or July 4th or something. Whatever yesterday was. Everybody was there: Bryan, Allan, Garrett, Sam, Brett, Morgan, Sarah with an H, Sara without an H, Andrew & Adam, Marco, Taylor, Mike, the girls from Panda Express, Josh, another Josh I didn’t know, tons of people I also didn’t know, and Gordo fromLizzie McGuire were there. All the people, basically. And Carl.
Carl needed me to pick him up. He said he needed a DD— and I wasn’t even planning on going to the party in the first place, actually— but I figured this could be an opportunity to truly disappoint him later in the evening after getting shit-faced, unable to take him home. It was a red-carpet opportunity, almost like ruining a small child’s birthday by telling them they’re ugly. You know what I mean: the afterlife and shit. You know what I mean, right?
So everybody was there and I forgot to mention the guy who does the voice for Little Foot inThe Land Before Time was also there. This actually was (and is) the voice of Little Foot in The Land Before Time so it is (and was) worth noting that he is the person who wakes up and sees that person in a mirror every day.
“We Are Young” by Fun. was playing in the living room and Little Foot was telling me about how he once killed a guy in Russia— “I won’t tell you how or why but I did”— when
“Where is my FUCKING Malibu?”
Who’s hand was I holding? I turned my head a tad to the right so as to not alert the animal—phew, it’s Morgan. Thank God. It’s Morgan. Not Katy, sure, but also not the worst choice to go with. And this was the kind of party where everybody that was there was a friend of mine or a friend of a friend of mine who’s not friends with Katy or friends of friends of Katy’s. So I can, you know… You know what I mean, right? I mean, things aren’t going so well with Katy.
I can do this. I can get away with this, to be a bit more clear. It’s not cheating on Katy. Katy is gone. She went on a date with the Brazilian Alan Thickhole, after all. I can do whatever I want, now. Free pass.
The screaming became less kitcheny as Gordo from Lizzie McGuire staggered into the living room.
“Morgan, somebody stole my fucking Malibu,” he said.
Morgan pulled her hand away from mine and stumbled over to Gordo from Lizzie McGuire. Shit, I thought, she’s stumbling. That means she’s drunk. I don’t think I can do this. I can’t do this. I can’t get away with this.
Sidebar: Why would a 35 year old bring Malibu to a party full of 20 year olds?
Morgan asked Gordo fromLizzie McGuire where he left the Malibu. He said he put it on the counter. Somebody stole it, he said. Somebody stole his fucking Malibu and he wants to know who did it.. He wants to check peoples’ cars. He wants to look in trunks.
One of the Joshes spoke up: “Dude, who could have gotten a bottle of Malibu to their car without anybody noticing?”
Me, I thought. I did. Fuck Gordo from Lizzie McGuire.
“I’m going to call the cops,” Gordo from Lizzie Mcguire said.
“You can’t do that,” Morgan said.
“Why not?” Gordo from Lizzie McGuire said.
“If you do that we’re going to have to kick the high schoolers out.”
Sidebar: Why the fuck were there minors at a party full of drunk 20 year olds?
Gordo fromLizzie McGuire wasn’t ready for that. He walked up to the other Josh. “Did you take my Malibu, bro?”
“No, Josh said, “And back off, bro.” Josh pushed Gordo from Lizzie McGuire away from him as if to say “back off, bro.” Gordo took the inertia he gained from the push and went towards the Panda Express girls.
“Did you see who stole my Malibu?”
“Que?” Carmen said.
And this must have gone on for about ten minutes before he made his way to me.
“Did you steal my Malibu?”
“Where’s Carl? Carl?”
“He’s the guy I gave a ride here. But he doesn’t have access to my car,” I jingled my keys, “you can check my trunk if you want but it’s not me.”
Gordo from Lizzie McGuire looked me in my Christmas eyes (I’ve got green eyes so when I get high it’s like Christmas).
Be cool, I thought. You got this. You didn’t steal the Malibu so you have nothing to hide. Which wasn’t true, by the way. Not by a long shot; after all, I stole the Malibu based on the principle of the entire matter. After all, what’s a 30 year old doing at a party filled with high schoolers.
He furrowed his brow and moved on.
“Where’s Carl?” he asked Morgan.
She didn’t know. She was actually getting pissed at this point— not at the thief (me), but at the fact that her party was starting to get this awkward vibe where everybody realized they didn’t want to be there anymore except for the high schoolers because, well, alcohol was there. Alcohol is the coolest guy at a party when you’re a high schooler. And this time, the coolest guy was in my trunk.
“Alright,” Morgan called out, stopping all the Fun. “If you’re under 18 you have to leave.”
It took nearly 30 minutes to get all the scoundrels out of the house. In the meantime, Gordo from Lizzie McGuire checked nearly every cupboard in the house for his missing pussy liquor. He should have checked the washer and dryer. Or my trunk.
“Where’s Carl?” he kept saying.
At this point I was kind of worried for Carl— he never told me he was leaving and now it was making sense that he actually left the party. Of course, we didn’t check the washer and dryer for him either— which is where he was later found. But not with the Malibu because that shit was in my trunk. It still is. Hold on.
Throughout all this ruckus I forgot about trying to bang Morgan. And, in doing so, Morgan must have forgotten about trying to bang me. The party continued but Gordo fromLizzie McGuirewas angry the entire time. He even got in a fight with Allan.
“I didn’t steal your stupid bitch drink,” Allan had said.
“It wasn’t just a drink. It was a whole bottle you fucking faggot,” he said, throwing a punch at Allan. Of course, Allan’s a marine so he took the punch in stride and didn’t throw one back. Doing that would have meant killing Gordo from Lizzie McGuire or— at the very least— risking his entire military career. Can’t say the same about Gordo from Lizzie McGuire, though. His career ended when I was nine.
Long story short: I didn’t cheat on Katy.