Milkshake finally got his damn milkshake

I meet Amy at her dorm and before anything else happens, she states, "Milkshake wants a milkshake."

"...what?"

"He has called me like twenty times asking to come over, each time I told him I was waiting for you, and he wants to go downtown to get a milkshake."

So we go up to meet Milkshake, Kris, Michelle, Viet, and a rather intoxicated Spencer, but by the time we make it to the bus stop, which is a long time from our initial departure because, wouldn't you know, drunk people are kind of a distraction. There is Shayla who is very anxious about the dance she was rejected from attending because she lives in totem, and then Spencer who was fervently calling someone for a good fifteen minutes.

When we do leave on the bus, our group has been trimmed to just Amy, Milkshake, Viet, and I, which is a good, tight group.

We get to Davie Street without too much issue, but the act of finding the place, the Templeton, proves to be much harder than anticipated. With Viet telling us it is 1068 Davie and hundreds of extravagantly-dressed individuals crowding on a street reminiscent of a street fair minus the vendors plus extra people, it was neigh-impossible to find this damn diner.

It was when we walked back up the street did we see a sign that said 1067. We were close.

So we take our search to the next level: we actually interacted with people. I walked into the closest establishment, which happened to be some Indian, I think, restaurant. I asked if they knew of a "Templeton" anywhere nearby, and, of course, they had no idea. A little defeated, granted we have barely begun our search, we step outside when Amy spots it!

We walk in ... and the sign says 1087. Thanks Viet for your impeccable number-memorizing ability.

It looks just like a 1950s diner (and turns out, it is actually an original 50s diner). We sit, looking over the menus for some foodstuff, knowing full well what drink Milkshake was to get. The conversation that ensued was, well ... interesting. It has some NSFW topics, so I will not discuss them here, but none were too mentally stimulating, we were mostly hungry/craving a milkshake like no other.

It was only after we left that things got interesting. As we are walking towards the bus stop from which we emerged, I noticed that the bus power lines were present only on one side of the street. "Hmm, bizarre, usually they are on both. Eh, whatever, might as well just continue down looking for the bus stop." We come to the realization, with the help of an iPhone (without technology, we probably would still be walking back to UBC), that there is no bus stop on this road. "Oh! It is one-way, duh there are no lines on 'the other side'..." I felt smart.

As we are walking to the stop, we pass by many interestingly-dressed people. Normally, it does not really matter, but there was thing one woman who had a crazy get-up that really was noticeable. Well, it was not the outfit, but really the way she delivered it: a swift spank to my behind. Snookie will be pissed to hear this.

The moment we were out of earshot, people, a little dumb-founded, immediately enquired. "Yes, guys, she did just spank me." As we rapidly walked to the bus stop.

"Which should be on Granville. There are many buses going to UBC from Granville that we can catch."

Old-style music chooser-thing 

Except, my phone said Howe, not Granville. I am trusting my phone, almost like Marsha*. But as we pass a bus stop on our way to Howe, Viet insists that we just missed our stop, to my continued walking to the destination. We get there and we read that the bus [service] stops after  21h00 on weekends. Mind you, we convinced ourselves that it was the service that ends, not that it is the bus stop.

Thinking we needed another bus stop, we run to Granville, to the bus stop that Viet insisted had the 4. Instead, it was the 6. Look, I am blind. Not really, but I have not the best vision. Viet owns and wears glasses. I felt a success there. So, we get to the third bus stop of the night to find that no buses arrive post 21h. "Let's just go back to the first stop".

As we round the corner to the first bus stop (the one my phone told me to go on Howe), we see the bus. We all kind of a flip a little, nearly running under traffic. Instead, we crossed the street wisely, well except for Viet who pulled a Flash and dashed before the light turned red, not wanting to miss the bus that had a nice, plump line outside of its doors, waiting to load the passengers.

On our way home, we did have some stimulating conversation. It began with linguistics, moved to the ability, or lack thereof, to communicate with truly alien species, grazing cross-species communication here on Earth, and finishing on a good note.

It was nice to get home and unwind.

*Future story about my parent's GPS named Marsha.