As Big Chris, not to be confused with Chris, and I trudged through the muddy trail that sort of connects Ashby Crossing Apartments to Stone Gate Apartments, I told him that we should eat some of the brownies I made yesterday when we get back to Stone Gate.
"No way you made them through all of this," Big Chris said. The confused 6-foot-8 giant — also known by some as Jump Ball, Dirk Nowitsky, Big Dick Chris, Sunshine, Stevie Janowski and Pat's bitch — was getting the brownies and the mud we were walking through mixed up.
"She didn't do all of this," he then said. My best guess at this point was that he thought a co-ed we know walked through the mud while baking brownies.
To understand how he got to this state we need to rewind about four hours when Big Chris, not to be confused with Chris, showed up to Ashby to hang out with a friend of his. This friend will remain nameless out of fear for my life. Said friend is 6-foot-4 and about 275 pounds. Said friend likes to "RAGE!" Said friend once implored me to punch him in the face. I didn't.
They were doing some raging all right. When I showed up to that Ashby apartment, after watching the Canadiens whoop up on the sorry Pens, Big Chris was on his way to "one of those nights." "One of those nights" usually means that he gets very repetitive, his voice gets slightly higher and he usually giggles at everything. Though the slightest ruffling of this Big Bird's feathers can get him quite angry. He doesn't like to be interrupted and even if no one has said anything he barks, "Do you want my opinion?!" (Random thought...if Big Chris was Big Bird would that make Pat, Snuffleupagus? Humphrey knows what I'm talking about because he represents the street. See previous post.)
Pat and Big Chris
So after we hung out at 6-foot-4-and-about-275-pound guy's lady friend's establishment for awhile, about 12 people piled into three cabs in hopes of some dancing at a local watering hole. I was looking forward to this myself because watching Big Chris dance is amusing. He has to crouch to get his waste to the level of the co-eds and he is usually at least a foot taller. He also gets a serious look on his face and kind of purses his lips. I wish I knew what was going through his mind.
Big Chris (Presumably picking a co-ed to dance with)
There was no dancing to be done at this local watering hole. As we waited outside the place in a line of about 20 people we could see that neither the patio nor the inside was close to capacity. Apparently the bouncers were only showing preference to Bridgewater folk. Last I checked the bar was in Harrisonburg city limits, but as Big Chris, Humphrey and the young men will learn over the years, Harrisonburg's bar scene is nearly non-existent.
Big Chris thought he would just walk by the bouncer, who was much rounder and could easily handle business. As Big Chris tried to sneak by, the bouncer clotheslined him and pushed him back outside. Our group was asked to leave or the cops would be called.
We gave Humphrey a call when we got back to Ashby. The rotund rabblerouser is currently in Atlanta with his family. His brother Patrick is playing one of his last home series for Georgia Tech and the family is hoping to get another photo of everyone in jeans and white shirts.
Humphrey put us on speaker phone and some of the ball players guffawed at Big Chris as he bellowed into the phone.
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