Hangin' with the Breaux's

Friday was an interesting night. My friend Nick turned the rip old age of 22. Yes, 22. I met him and the rest of the breaux's (two brought their girlfriends) at All-Star Bowling. Breaux is Nick's band and is pronounced Bro. We had planned on playing a couple of games but the alley was packed and it was a two hour wait. 

Plan B

We (Nick, Jeren, Tyler, Nick's girlfriend -Amanda, Greg - Nick's lead guitarist, Greg's girlfriend, Kyle and I) drove to Nickel-mania (ghetto version of Nickelcade) and dropped about $5.oo ($2.50 of that was the entrance fee). Jeren, Kyle, Tyler and I all tore up a mean game of The Simpsons. We each were a character (I was Homer) as we battled Moe, Zombies, and other bad guys to free Maggie from Smithers. We kept throwing in the nickels to get to the end of the game where we took out Smithers and then had to fight the evil Mr. Burns who was in something that some-what resembled a Sci-fi Pope-mobile. We four brilliant arcade players ventured out on our own. Nick went for the Star Wars game while Jeren and Tyler became hitmen. I - on the other hand - drove a porsche, killed the undead who were trying to escape a mental hospital, skied down what looked like grass, and then terminated some terminators. And I still have nickels...

Next the night took us to The Training Table. I ordered the Grilled Cheese on Sourdough and we just sat back and laughed at stories from the adventures of Jeren, Kyle and Nick. When I finished eating 2 of the 3 slices of my sandwich I just let my food digest. I then offered my last slice to Nick. The boy is like a vulture. He will scarf his meal down in seconds then just wait for you to be finished. Then he will proceed to dive into your leftovers. 

After food, Nick wanted to go to his favorite sports bar & grill The Huddle. The name should be the hovel. Its this small space next to a grocery store. Nick, Jeren, Tyler, Kyle, Kyle (2) and I sat around and talked while the boys enjoyed their beverages. The Jazz game was up and Nick was happy until two pool players commandeered the juke box and began to play all hair metal. There was also this questionable drunk dude invading the space of several patrons. The fear of him joining our table if he saw us staring was not as bad as the desire to watch his crazy antics.