Name: Josh
Age: (at the time):

The story begins as most do, a house party with some buddies, females, cheap liquor and cases of beer.
all-in-all it was a good night, got pretty smashed, shot-the-shit with everyone around, macked on some women; the usual.

The party starts to die down and eventually there are just four of us left with nothing much else to do and the insatiable beer munchies that haunt most of us in our drinking nights.

Some background info: we’re at a house that is between two cities with a distance of around 10 miles in either direction, both containing a 24/7 diner, as we had already been kicked out of one for our drunken shenanigans we decided to head off into the other direction.

Miraculously we make it there (do not condone drunk driving at all, hah). We get inside and are seated by a woman who isn’t particularly anything special but we brutally mack on her anyways in our drunken stupor. we order our food and the familiar urge to piss interrupts my 2 a.m. dinner.

I head to the restroom and do my thing and walk out to see something that completely blows my mind: my three buddies are speeding, or more like drunken jogging, out the door with full plates of food. Being that it was 2 a.m. there wasn’t much traffic through this particular diner so I was v.i.p. parking directly outside the front door.

I see this all happening so I run after them, since I was the driver, and was also not paying for their stupidity. We try to get into my car and speed off as quickly as we can. Unfortunately my idea of quickly isn’t the same drunk as when I’m sober. As we’re laughing our asses off, not completely sure what even just happened, I forget to turn the car on.

We’re sitting in front of a diner with a few waitresses, swing managers and probably less than 8 customers, it was fully obvious what we just did. One man comes out, writes my license plate number down and smiles at us and heads back in. We begin to freak out completely, thinking that the cops are going to go on a man hunt for our dine-n-ditch and we eventually head back to pay.

A few customers come out and talk with us, trying to figure out what it was that they just saw and we tell them what happened, etc. and pay.

A few finished diners walked out and started yelling at my buddy who jumps out of my car and punches their car and dents it as they drive off. We cool off, get it together and head back to the house, buddies still eating their food in the back seat (they didn’t grab mine for me) and finally make it home safely. just a regular Tuesday night.

The next morning is like many other mornings: what the fuck happened last night, i don’t remember shit? eventually hit my car and find forks and plates in my back seat. thank you [unnamed] diner:)

Dear Josh, Your story needed more explosions and sex but I’ll give you props for actually paying for the food.  The only time I ever dined and ditched, was the night my truck got towed.  Karma is a bitch.