One of John's cats, Bombay, is bugging me for attention now. I'm distracting her with the belt of my robe. Bombay's gotten pretty friendly, although Zsofi still treats me with much the same disdain she shows everyone except John.
I flew in on Friday night. The plane was delayed about an hour getting in, mostly due to traffic at the Atlanta airport. The line the planes made on the runway while waiting for takeoff formed a big U. I could watch out the window as the planes ahead of us took off, and look behind to see the queue of planes behind. And the rows upon rows upon rows of planes parked at terminals, loading and unloading. It's mindboggling when I think of it, all those people on all those planes, flying halfway across the country in the space of a few hours. This is our magic, all that technology, all those possibilities, available to anyone for the price of a few hundred dollars. Amazing what we've done.
John met me at the airport, along with one of his friends, JZ. playfuleye was hosting a weekend-long party, and we drove straight there. We arrived around 11:30 or midnight, and the party was in full swing. Most of the food had been eaten, but every inch of the kitchen island was covered in a vast selection of booze. One of playfuleye's friends, Skywolf (not sure on the spelling) had filled a ten gallon cooler with sangria, which was tasty. I had a couple of glasses of it over the next few hours.
We had a great time. Met a bunch of Moonwolf's friends, many of which had come from out of town for the party. (Several drove down from Maryland for it.) John and I danced to techno in the living room, along with Mattie and Carol and JZ. I tried on some of Mattie's collection of skirts and watched him dance -- he's quite good at bellydancing, much better than I am.
Around 2:30 or so we headed out. As John was driving JZ home, we came towards a light and John said, "Do you think that guy was okay?"
"What guy?" I said, oblivious.
"The one lying on the sidewalk. Think we should turn around and check on him?"
"Um. Yeah. I think that would be a good idea. I didn't notice him."
He was lying on the sidewalk near a street corner, arms sprawled out, legs twisted sideways and back flat. I got out of the truck first to check on him, thinking /I hope he's not dead./
Then I heard him snoring. /OK, that's reassuring./
We tried waking him up and couldn't rouse him, so we called 911. Cellphones are another modern miracle; mine stayed home with Lut but John and JZ both had theirs. It makes getting the professionals to the scene simple and easy. The 911 operator asked one strange question: "Is he black?" I don't know why. He looked more Hispanic than anything else to me, but I couldn't really tell.
While we waited for emergency services to arrive, a few more people stopped or came by, asking if we needed help. In a few minutes, the first police car arrived and we headed out a couple of minutes after that, as a firetruck showed up. I expect an ambulance was coming, too. The cop got him to shift position and make a noise, but couldn't rouse the guy either.
We dropped JZ off and finally made it home at around 3AM, and collapsed.