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I suppose if I were conventional, I would have started the Kenny Chronicles with this post, but no such luck.  It was a cold and rainy night several years ago.  Well, I don’t know about all that, but it was night, for sure.   I went to a music festival that we have in my hometown every labor day.  It’s an event that you have no desire to attend after the age of 17, but somehow you end up going every year because someone’s dad got free tickets from their work [ or ] you’re bored out of your mind.

garbage-truckI went with my psycho British boyfriend and a guy that pretty much every person in my town either knows or “has heard of” because he’s just that absurd.  We’ll call him Joe.  Oh wait, that’s his actual name.  Oh well.  As we’re walking back to our car, this guy walks up to us, Joe turns to me and says, this is my best friend Kenny.  Shortly after that Joe started chasing one of the cleaning trucks, hopped on the back of it, and rode off into the sunset.  At that very moment, Kenny and I looked at eachother, shook our heads, and said, “Yea.  That’s about right.”  

[Skip ahead a couple of weeks]  We’re at birthday party downtown Chicago.  We ended up sleeping on the floor of one of Kenny’s friend’s apartments.  I’m not going to make any apologies for what I’m about to say: this place was a skeezy trash hole.  There was like 8 people living there and I felt like I was getting a disease just by looking at the toilet seat. 

In the morning, I rustled a little, tried to go back to sleep but I couldn’t.  I looked over at Kenny and he just had a confused look on his face.  We glanced up at the tv, and what do we see?  Gay porn.  YUP.  Apparently, one of the tenants was gay.   He wasn’t seriously watching it, he was making fun of it, but either way – Kenny and I looked at eachother and immediately said “let’s go get the car.”

I put my heels back on, which fit nicely over the massive blisters I acquired the night before and we stepped outside.  I have mascara smeared all over my face, it’s blazing hot outside, and I’m still wearing my black “going out clothes.”  It’s 10:00 am Sunday morning and we look ridiculous.  After we had walked around the city for about 20 mins, I say:

me:  wait, I think we already went passed that building.

kenny:  naw, I don’t think so.  the car is parked on the street over there.

me:  but that’s the White Hen Pantry that we saw 5 mins ago.

homeless-guy-funny-signkenny:  no, no it’s not.  they’re like on every corner here.

me:  but… WAIT! that’s the same homeless guy.  we just went in a giant circle!

kenny:  homeless guys wander around. 

me:  NO.  they stay in one spot.  wait, you don’t have any idea where the car is do you?

kenny:  well, I don’t know if you could say I have no idea, but I’m not exactly sure either.

me:  WHAT?  Well then why are we wandering aimlessly in the blazing sun when i’m tired, dehydrated, and blistery?  and i look ridiculous?   Why don’t you know where it is?  you’re the man, you’re supposed to know.

kenny:   Everything looks the same here.

 

For more chapters in the Kenny Chronicles, please check out:   How to talk yourself out of dating almost anyone,   A conversation at Starbucks,   Black Friday, depression, and a Salvation Army chair,   A bad gordita and some classy water,  and   A metrosexual in a Yankees hat

Want more blog traffic?  To qualify for this week’s contest, you must leave a comment on the following posts:  Seinfeld of Blogging,   13 yr. old dad,   The school of life: Don’t do this,   and The Kenny Chronicles: The Begininning.  Winner will be chosen Friday night.

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