Lebron’s Ride Ain’t Got Shit on Me

So, I’ll try to keep this as concise as possible. First off, let me say that I don’t really mind my job at Dollar Bill copying too much at all. They keep me busy all day, I rarely have to answer to anybody as my true boss is a box from which I grab paperwork, and having known many of these people for some time work is generally an enjoyable place to be when a deadline isn’t looming too close in my face. I hung out with my current boss Sean at the bars before I ever even started working there, but I never realized that the owner of Dollar Bill liked to treat his employees to a good time too occasionally. This is my brief tale of that night, this past Friday.

So our boss picked Shea and I up from our new apartment and drove us down to Dexter for their summer festival “Dexter Daze.” We stopped by at the owner Mike’s house and I quickly realized that Mike is a rich rich man. This is hard for some to believe, but his house was like a zoo-graveyard hybrid. Mike has been to Africa to hunt 12 times, and sitting around in his house (literally piling up on tables and in corners and in spare bedrooms) are the trophies of countless animals Mike has killed in his many journeys. Included were the full or partial remains of (I’m not exaggerating) a giraffe, cougar, hyena, elephant, zebra, buffalo, monkey, alligator, crocodile, caribou, swordfish, hammerhead shark, and many others I will not even try to remember. It was a little strange, but very cool, to say the least.

Anyway, we piled into Mike’s Hummer (and I don’t mean H2 like they advertise on TV, I’m talking like this thing could go into service in Iraq tomorrow) and drove to Hick-ass Dexter (I know, like I’m one to talk with Lyons and Adrian on my resume). Basically we all got drunk and shot the shit. Eventually we drove back to Mike’s place and got even more drunk. Somehow in our drunkenness Mike gave the keys to the Hummer to Shea and I let us loose on the streets of his little rich-house community. Let me say, the widetrack Grand Prix has nothing on the shear width of this beast. I know, drinking and driving is bad, but we literally never made it more than 1000 feet away. While not as fulfilling as receiving a hummer, driving one is pretty exciting to a drunk kid. I think the most amazing part had to be that he even gave us the keys to begin with, but what did he know? He was drunk too.

While ultimately just a silly and retarded night of drinking in an Ann Arbor suburb (yeah, I know, there really isn’t such a thing), I doubt I’ll ever forget the stuffed giraffe or the feeling of hitting the gas in a vehicle that belonged to my boss I barely know and is probably worth more than my life. It was fun, it was weird, and it was memorable.