Lauter Has a Posse
Last night, Chris and I rode MARTA to the High Museum to see a Japanese Film called Train Man. It’s a romantic comedy about a geek who ends up getting the girl. (Hey, sometimes nice guys finish first!)
11:30 rolled around and we found ourselves at Taco Mac in midtown, which was a totally welcome change from the excessive number of douche-flood-tool-belts that were patronizing TAP. But about halfway in to beer #2, it occured to me that we should figure out what time the last MARTA train comes.. So yeah, for the record, on Saturday the last train leaves the airport at 1 AM (which means it should be pulling into the midtown station at 1:20 AM).
So we quickly finished our beers, paid the tab and hauled ass towards the midtown station. We got inside, and just as we were running down the stairs to hop on the train it pulled away. FFFUUUCK!!! Why doesn’t MARTA lock their gates as soon as the last train pulls into the station? Apparently because they want to take your money and leave you stranded in doucheville.
So we figured that at that point, there were two viable options. #1: find a friend willing to give us a ride or #2: take a cab. Chris got in touch with a couple people who he thought might be willing to help us out, but in the mean time we started walking towards 17th and Peachtree. Hey, if we were going to have to take a cab from midtown to Chamblee, we at least wanted it to cost as little as possible.
I couldn’t find any of my friends who I thought might be willing to do the deed for twenty bucks (still cheaper than a $40 cab ride), so on a lark I decided to post my request on Twitter. And AMAZINGLY, within 5 minutes two people had responded that they could help out. At that point, my jaw pretty much dropped. I honestly didn’t expect anyone to read my message, much less respond.
But sure enough and after working out the details, in about 15 minutes Leigh, Eddie and Alex rolled up in a silver Mazda. And they didn’t even want the twenty bucks we had promised! Chris told funny jokes and there was lots of good conversation as we traveled directly north on Peachtree St, all the way to Chambodia.
This, my friends, is the power of a posse.
