The End is Nigh!

I'm going to let you guys in on a little secret. I'm not really as cool in real life as I pretend to be on this blog. Hard to believe, right? I know.

The the truth is, I'm kind of a nerd. Okay, that is putting it mildly. I'm a huge fucking nerd. Is it because calculus was my favorite subject in high school? Well, it was, but no. Is it because I have a blog? Hmmmm, again true, but no. Give up? Okay, I'll tell you.

I love fantasy shit.

Let me rephrase that as you might interpret that sentence as me having an adoration for unicorn excrement.

I love fantasy/science fiction stories.

God, that was hard to type out. Let me try again. Hi, my name is Megan, and I like fantasy stories/science fiction. No really, Lord of the Rings: the Two Towers is my favorite movie of all time. I can watch Star Wars on repeat, and one of my favorite authors is H.G. Wells. I guarantee you if I was born male, I would be playing Dungeons and Dragons in my parents' basement as we speak looking forward to a night alone with my Wii remote (rather than being female looking for a night alone with my vibrator). Umm...nerd alert!

So what's my point?

You may have heard of this book called Harry Potter coming out. I've been waiting for this for years religiously checking Muggle Net (dude, I'm not kidding) for any clues as to what will happen in the 7th book. And now the time is almost here for my Harry Potter adventures to cease. The End is Nigh! At 12am Saturday morning, I will be in possession of the key to the magical universe.

I remember when the 6th book came out (a Friday, I believe), my friends and I decided to go to happy hour at the Boat Basin. It was July 2005, and life was good. I figured it was more important for me to be social than to wait in line for a book at 12am (with 12 year olds) that will still be available on Saturday morning. So I drank. And drank. And drank. Between about 10 people, our bill was $600. I know what you are thinking: "Megan, that's only $60 a person. Don't you normally spend that on a night out in New York?" Well, yes, sometimes. But we were ordering buckets of Corona at about $4 per Corona. Sure, I had some dinner, but if my calculations are correct, I had one margarita, and about 8 or 9 Coronas. Just so we are clear, after 6 beers I am thoroughly drunk. 8 drinks and I am belligerent and start wearing sailor hats and shoving straws up my nose. 10+ drinks, and I'm asking garbage men for a ride in their truck at 5am.

At about 12:00am, we pay our bill and decide to part ways. My stomach is starting to turn just thinking about this night. I do remember going into Duane Reade and insisting that my friend let me buy her a Cinderella kiddy thermos (Dude, I totally forgot about that til now. I bet she threw it out! Slut.), and then hopping on the subway with about 3 copies of each of the free periodical/advertisements offered in the breezeway of the drug store advertising gay sex.

I think you get the idea. I was a hot fucking mess.

My friend and I get on the subway to head downtown. She lived in Chelsea at the time, but I had yet to move there. I was living in Murray Hill so I decided to take the subway with her cause it would be fun, and I would have company. Obviously the night would not be worth is until I annoyed the most amount of people possible by using the subway pole as a stripper pole.

I'm still holding about 8 pounds of paper when the train comes. The train is pretty crowded, but a few of the passengers take one look at me and get up to offer my friend and I their seats. Now I'm shouting at random people. Probably something to the effect of, "OH MY GOOOOOODDD I'MMMMM SOOOOO DRUNNKKKK!" Yeah, I was that girl. It's okay to spit on your computer. I deserve it. I'm not proud of how I behaved. Now we're about two stops away from my friend's stop where I was to take a cab across town or die, one of the two, when I turn to my left and I see someone reading the new Harry Potter.

They say when you are drunk and you get a rush of adrenaline, you sober up. Well, I didn't, but I did get excited enough to decide that I was getting that fucking book that night whether I had to blow up Borders to get it or not. I checked my watch. It said 12:45am. It takes about 15 minutes to get across town from where I was. The Borders near my apartment closed at 1am. I was going to do this. I immediately threw the papers at my friend, and yelled at her that I was leaving. I had to do this. It was my destiny. Apparently after I left, some guy asked my friend, "Uh, you sure you should just leave her? To which she replied, "Oh, she is fiiiine." I.love.my.friends.

You know in movies where someone is in a hurry in Manhattan, and they just in a cab, throw money at the cab driver and say, "Take me to this place, and step on it!" Well, I tried that, except it came out more like, "o98S&r98awyq3jb34 hij2y78^^A576$^A%W$s65QR32!!!!!"

I believe God was looking over me that night, and in a moment of clarity the cab driver asked me again where I was going, and I was able to utter two words, and two words only: 31st. 2nd.

Time was running out, but I could definitely make it there before 1am. That is, until my cab approached a garbage truck just parked in the middle of the street. I checked my watch: 5 minutes til 1am. I was about 10 blocks and an avenue away. It was going to be close (just for those of you keeping score: 20 blocks is about a mile. An avenue is about 2 or 3 blocks). I threw some money at the cab driver (when I woke up the next morning, I checked my wallet and concluded I gave him a $20 on a $5 fair) and fucking ran. This wasn't a light jog. I was like Prefontaine in flip flops and a skirt leaping over heaps of garbage on the street with a single bounce.

At literally 12:59 am, I reach the door of Borders just as the security guy is locking it.

"You just made it, honey." He says.

"Iyaerhewkjhriequryq9ew783834uy3^%@#%@GHNweruaittArHQGE!!!!!" I reply.

Now as I was running I somehow had it in my mind that I would simply walk in the bookstore, get my book, and go home. No, this place was a shit show. Children and adults alike waiting on the longest line I have ever seen. Some people were dressed up. These were my people, and I felt at home. A woman thrusts a number into my face as a greeting, and I'm instructed to wait. I'm in the back of the line. God damn.

Now after 10 beers, not only turn into a belligerent dictator, but I also have a penchant for passing out in very inconvenient areas. And missing various parts of my wardrobe. Most recently I hooked up with a guy, and woke up naked on his bathroom floor with my clothes in a pile next to me. I'm not sure why I undressed in the bathroom, but apparently it seemed like a good idea at the time. I only hope that my intention wasn't to take a random shower in his apartment. Did I mention he had a roommate? Yep I'm classy. I know.

So back to Borders. I do my best to be sober as to not scare the kiddies and ask how long of a wait it will be.

"About an hour," someone tells me.

FUUCCCCKKKKKK.

I settle in for the long haul. I find a place on the steps of Borders and attempt to call my boyfriend. At this point it's like I have a concussion, and he is talking to me trying to keep me alive. Instead of a concussion though, he is trying to keep his obnoxiously drunk girlfriend from passing out on the steps of Borders with her skirt up around her waist.
I don't know how it happened, but eventually my number is called, and I get my book. I'm pretty sure my conversation went something like this for an hour:

Megan: "kfjhkfjhekjfhskljdbhksdjbgisuhi^^^^^%@$$gvcvvfwtq77!"
Boyfriend: "Meg, you can do this. You can't turn back now. You must finish! Focus!"
Megan: "zzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.....wha?"

I run home and attempt to read. Who tries to read drunk? Well I do. And it's fucking hard. I hard to use my finger to follow the words on the page. I believe I re-read the first paragraph about 37 times. That's the last thing I remember. I woke up drooling over the jacket.

But you know what? I woke up hangover free from all that running, rolled over, and began reading. I finished the book in 8 hours.

For this book I'll be in Florida with my parents so I doubt any booze will be involved, but I may have to stab a few old folks in St. Petersburg to get the book at 12am sharp. I am not making the same mistake twice!

Happy Harry Potter Day! I know some of you are going to enjoy Sunday as much as me!When the fuck did Harry get so foxy? I'd totally cougar his ass up.