fishgirl: America, F*ck Yeah!

I can't really talk about Gavin without telling the story of his friendship with John. Gavin lives in London but comes to the US for work events. John worked with him years ago (and now we both do) He would mention "Gavin's coming to town" and I'd basically plan to spend a week by myself. After work, they would attend whatever work sponsored event was going on and John would call me to say "this is about to wrap up and then Gavin and I are going to go grab a drink. I'll be home about 7." Around 7:30, he'd call again to let me know they just ordered the last round and then he was coming home. Around 9, I'd get yet another call from someplace a lot louder and John saying he'd be home about 10:30. Usually, I'd get another call around this time from his phone and hear muffled noises in the background. About 11:00, he'd call again to say they were at the strip club and they were going to have another drink and he'd be home at midnight. Usually around 2, I'd hear him come stumbling up the front steps, crash around downstairs for a bit and then he'd come up to bed, tell me I was pretty and then crash face first into the pillow while asking me to set the alarm for 6 the next morning. He'd wake up and head to work, where the exact same scenario would play out for each day Gavin was in town. Nowadays, it's harder to keep up with the marathon drinking of their youth, but last time Gavin was in town, they came up with a plan and this weekend we headed out for an adventure that he can't so easily do in London. Step 1: Gavin showed up in his rental car, a brand new Camaro (seriously, 6 miles on the odometer!). Top down, ~~wind blowing through our hair~~, we headed out to the woods.