Hope randomly showed up on my doorstep one day while I was busy feeling sorry for myself. I don’t know what made her fly out to see me; I guess she must have been bored. I also don’t know how she knew where I lived; but then again, I’m no longer surprised when Hope finds me. She takes amateur stalking to a whole new level. This was surprisingly less creepy than the time her and some of her friends drove to Los Angeles from somewhere in New Mexico and picked me up at the bus stop I was waiting at. But that’s a whole other story.
It was a Friday night and I was home by myself shortly after I moved to Portland, and there was a knock on the door. I kind of crept out and peeped through the little hole in the door and was floored to see Hope standing there. She let herself in, proclaiming that she had forgotten I had moved, and finding me was kind of hard cause she had been looking in Burbank for the first half hour of her “research”. She looked at me impatiently and asked me why I wasn’t dressed for going out yet. Somehow the whole situation struck her as “normal”. So I did what any rational person would do: I got dressed for going out and out we went!
I hadn’t really been in Portland long enough to figure out where the “happening” places to go were yet, but that didn’t matter. Hope did her homework and knew where we were going anyway. I wish I remembered where we went; it was pretty fun. We hit a couple spots before picking one to stay at for more than twenty minutes. Cruising around town was fun. I had been kind of homesick and missed the city lights, and this outing took care of that.
When we finally picked a bar to stay out, we found a cozy little booth to sit in and had some drinks and chatted about life and things. People (mostly boys) would wander up to our table and Hope would shoo them away; we were both taken, and besides, she was here to see ME. We were having a grand old time until somebody came along who didn’t get the meaning of the words “go away”. I had forgotten how much of a temper Hope has; she’s pretty quiet about it, but there’s no mistaking when she’s angry. Unless, of course, you’re Captain Oblivious, as this guy apparently was.
So she dumped her drink over his head.
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