Last week I got an urge to lay on a rooftop, and drink Vodka under the stars,
so I packed an empty backpack with svedka, a notebook, and a cellphone; and went on a mission.
I spent an afternoon looking around.
Taking notes on how in the hell, I could get up to a place that was flat, a roof, and could see the stars.
As it turns out,
the rooftops are not a place Freeport wants you to be.
in fact, one staircase directly leading to the top of a building specifically said
"No Trespassing"
Keeping me out with a locked metal door.
so I kept adventuring.
It did not occur to me until after I had already spent quite awhile scribbling down notes on locations of
milk crates I could use,
ledges low enough to grab,
dumpsters I could maybe move over just a bit,
how illegal it may be,
(I'M still not sure)
Or how dangerous it may be
(probably quite very)
To go on this adventure.
I texted a beautiful girl and asked if she wanted to drink vodka under the stars.
being the suave romantic that I am,
Having spent my whole morning surveying different routes to the rooftops.
Having planned out such a storybook evening, obviously her answer was,
"nah, I'd rather stay home, smoke weed, and watch the new season of Orange is the new black."
Goddamnit, Ruby Rose...
Stop. stealing. my dates.
After introducing myself to a handful of other potential candidates, I finally find a woman who believes climbing onto a rooftop and drinking vodka would be a swell time.
By the time I pick her up and get back to the spot,
it's late enough that Freeport is a ghost town.
We run down the middle of the street, me dragging her, doctor and companion style towards the first flawless plan:
Milkcrates behind linda beans.
We stack them up like steps and walk up to the top of a metal ceiling
Affixed perfectly above a flight of stairs that leads to the top floor.
I thought, "maybe we could climb the metal ceiling like a ramp."
it turns out
that not only is it
incredibly difficult not to
fall off of a slanted flimsy ramp
with no handles. But it is also: Terrifying!
Eventually I make it to the top and realize:
"Shit, There is still a tall ledge I have to hoist myself onto"
I look down to the short brunette quivering
on the ramp's lowest tier and decide that there is no way either of us were going to make it.
"Hey rose, " (That wasn't her real name)
Let's try a different way up.
attempting to crawl down slowly,
my butt scoots forward, hands behind me,
I slip and start gliding down like a children's slide.
flailing and attempting to catch myself before
falling off the edge and plummeting onto a dumpster.
(Whistling noises)
Thud!
She screams.
I laugh uncontrollably.
She slowly descends our statuesque landmark milkcrate staircase.
Like an angel coming from ghetto heaven.
I lift myself up and hop down off the dumpster.
putting my backpack down,
I check to see if the vodka bottle is okay.
It's fine.
"Good job, asshole."
"We're fine."
"You're an idiot."
"I could have died, don't I at least get a kiss or something?"
She gives me a disapproving look, then kisses me.
eventually we did
make it up to a rooftop,
Where we laid and watched the stars.
They were warm, distant, and beautiful.
I liked feeling their glow on my skin.
But I loved taking the journey to meet them.