How in the world did that remote get *there*?!

Sometime in the last two months I went bowling at the Surf Bowl with Nick and Jennifer. Before (and during) the bowling, the three of us were slamming back Vodka and Red Bulls or Vodka tonics, the tasty ones that Jen likes.

There was some heavy metal freak screaming and playing a guitar inside the bar and the tv was showing something ridiculously benign and probably just as stupid.

Every once in a while I turn into kind of a klepto when I'm drinking. But this night was different, because I was stealing in order to increase the average intelligence of the bar. I decided that the entire bar could use a nice helping of CSPAN.

Jennifer and I cackled as I hid the remote beneath the bar. How it got into my Coach purse, I'm not entirely sure of, but I'm pretty sure my hands had something to do with it. I believe I actually stuffed it inside my jeans first, because Jen had to grab my purse on the way out since I conveniently forgot it was hanging on the back of my chair.

I pulled it out of my jeans and stuck it in my purse. Then we bowled three games with probably three more drinks a piece. I actually managed to beat Jen one game, by three points or something, but only because she was having an unusually bad game.

The drunker I got the less concerned I was about the bar folk who were stuck watching CSPAN, and we left the bowling alley drunk and happy. Took a turn to Denny's because Jen and I were not ready for the night to be over and Nick had to go to work at 2am.

The next morning I open my purse to find that remote waiting to be returned to its natural habitat.

I haven't thought of this night in a while, mostly because I haven't had time to get to Santa Cruz since that weekend what between school and skiing. Tonight on the phone Nick informed me that he was eyeballing that remote and wondering what to do with it.

I apologize Surf Bowl. I was not being malicious - I really was trying to educate those poor people. And seriously, you probably shouldn't keep the remote out on the bar for idiots like me to confiscate.