So, apparently I didn't flash my neighbor when I was coming out of the shower the other day. I know this because I met my actual neighbor this weekend. She soberly walked into our backyard to thirty wasted friends in the midst of a water balloon fight while Bobby was beat boxing banjo noises for a community waterfall out of smirnoff bottles. She opened the gate seconds after I yelled, "There goes my security deposit" as Chad punched out the second floor window screen for an aerial assault.

I offered her a drink, which she didn't accept, and then proceeded to charm her. She helps develop hotels. As she was outlining her job duties someone shot a bottle rocket, presumably at my eye, which I dodged by backing up, tripping over the cooler and falling into a pile of dead leaves, breaking the fall with my head while spilling an entire beer all over myself. She soon ventured upstairs.

I thought it would be funny to wear the flag instead of my wet clothes for the rest of the afternoon (it was only about 3 by this point).

We met on the stairs about an hour later. Me coming up, her going down. As I took another step toward her, I stepped on the hem of the flag and it promptly snapped off. Of course.

Half naked lushes who throw disastrous parties are awesome first impressions with hotel developers, right?

More to come from this weekend.