Since our new bus is so damned fun, Mark devised a plan to load all our friends up and drive to SAK Comedy Lab - a brilliant idea. So we did, and Rachel, who is apparently all our friends, Mark, and I settled in for a solid hour and a half of sweating like my second boyfriend's palms to pick up our tickets just in time for the show. Rachel and Emily met us there and we laughed our arses off between the blasts of pee pee that occasionally wafted our way. We thought the pee smell was weird (and gross) until we realized that Urinetown was playing next door. Talk about subliminal marketing.
After SAK, we had some drinks at the Peacock Room, where a hot hot-panted lady held Rachel and me in thrall and where I was thrilled to spot Laurel and Kate and chat a bit about the obvious planetary misalignment causing so many of the Orlando circle's relationships to fling off course. The trip home was much cooler, attributable not one bit to the martinis but to the fact that the SUN was indeed DOWN. Mark took advantage of the darkness to spurt way too believable siren noises from his self, scaring the shit out of his gracious driver.
All that driving has so made me a pro at following that elusive gear-shift pattern for reverse.