From UrbanDictionary.com:


1. janky

(adjective) inferior quality; held in low social regard; old and delapidated; refers almost exclusively to inanimate material objects, not to people

We tried to pick up on these girls waiting for the bus, but I was driving my sister's janky 1989 geo metro so we just got clowned instead.

That being said, this is a story about two of the jankiest girls I've ever met.

It started out as your typical beach trip. Except that at one point, all the under 21ers decided to head to meet up with my sister and her friends at another location. So those of us who were of age headed to the casino. Dave, JR and I made our way down to Chinook Winds to do a little gambling and hit the bar, where we undoubtedly would end up at a table by ourselves watching some drunk idiots make fools of themselves. Little did I know that we were about to be the drunk idiots.

Late in the night, right before the club closed for the night, we were getting our last drinks. Dave a jager and red bull, JR something probably with Hennessey, and me a Pepsi straight up. Well, this attractive girl walks right up next to JR to get a drink. So, JR does what any semi-drunk guy would do, he hits on her.

"Hey, your hair smells nice."

That's your line? Now I'm no Casanova myself, but "your hair smells nice?" Does that actually work?

In a word, yes.

Next thing I know, this girl is having this conversation with all of us. She complains that her friend went home early and she'd have to walk back to her hotel. So we offer her a ride. On the way to the car, she suddenly says "do you guys want to take a walk on the beach?"

What kind of psycho girl asks three guys (actually four, this 30 something from Idaho somehow thought some kinky stuff was going to go down and followed us.) to take her to the beach in the middle of the night. She's lucky we're upstanding good men.

So we're down on the beach, she's going on and on and just becoming less attractive by the second. At the beginning, I was down with it because I figured I had a one in three chance of hooking up with this girl. But the more she talked, the less interested I became. She dropped out of high school and got a GED. She smokes. She has a kid. She's a high class trailer skank, basically. So we finally convince her to let us take her home and I think that's the end of it. Ohhhh no.

She invites us up to her room to meet her friend. I don't remember who thought this was a good idea, but up we go. I can't imagine what the desk clerk thought when this drunk girl strolls through the lobby with three guys shuffling along behind her. Little did he know he hadn't seen the last of us.

We get up to her room, but before we go in, she says "we have to be kind of quiet, my cousin is kind of cranky. He sorta has a crush on me, and I keep shutting him down." What kind of Jerry Springer episode did we get ourselves into? Turns out he's like a distant cousin through a now defunct marriage or something, but still.

So we go in, and the bed is just a mess. In the middle of it is this girl with long curly blonde hair that looks like she might just be dead and a scrawny tattooed burnout dude. They look like they thought about having sex, but one or both passed out before it could happen.

So of course, girl #1 jumps on the bed and starts yelling. I guess being quiet went up in smoke about the time we opened the door. So girl #2 kind of groggily mumbles something, then CRAWLS ACROSS THE FLOOR TO HER PIPE! She just woke from a drunken stupor, and she goes and loads her pipe with a hit of weed. I'm way out of my element now. So we're just kind of hanging out and girl #1 says that girl #2's nickname is Barbie. I kind of laugh and go "Pothead Barbie....nice." Pothead Barbie shoots me a look of death, which quickly glazes over into indifference and laughter. JR's cracking up, and Dave just looks uncomfortable.

So while we're all talking, the tattoo'ed one keeps yelling for us to "shut the fuck up" every few minutes. Finally he's had enough and jumps out of bed like someone stabbed him and starts threatening to kick people's asses. JR, who almost seemed to anticipate this, jumps out of his chair and cuts this guy off before he can get three steps from the bed. That's when we realize this tattoo'ed yeller is only about 5'6 and 135 lbs. JR goes about 6'4 220. And, as if it couldn't get any better, the scrawny guy has the cadillac emblem tattoed on his stomach. This was rapidly turning into an episode of Cops.

So this guy sees that JR is about 3 times his size and gets much quieter. He's still angry, but subdued. Then out of nowhere, he decideds it would be a good idea to take on someone more his pace....me. Apparently I look like a pussy or someone easily intimidated, because this guy gets louder and starts coming after me. He gets about one step, and JR grabs the guy by the throat and slams him up against the wall. Literally the guys toes are barely on the ground and JR's just holding him there....amazing. I look around, and Dave's already out in the hall pressing the elevator button saying "c'mon guys let's go!" JR's still got this guy totally at his mercy and then he says calmly. "Look, I'm sorry we woke you up and I'm sorry for coming in to your hotel room. Normally I'd apologize and buy you a drink at the bar, but you're being a real dick right now." Hilarious.

So we leave, the girls apologizing over and over again as we get in the car. Thank God that night's over, right? No chance.

"Dude I lost my phone!"

JR is without cell phone. He asks me to call it to see if they picked it up at the bar. I call, and who should answer but girl #1! Great. JR left his phone in their hotel room. So we have to pull a U-Turn in the middle of Hwy 101 and head back to the Ashley Inn. Girl #1 and Pothead Barbie meet us in the parking lot. They keep apologizing, then they ask if they can get in the car because they don't want to go back up to the hotel room. Sure, why not? They want to go back to the beach. Now I grew up hearing Public Service Announcements telling me that the beach is dangerous at night and not to mess with it. The reason they don't say that you shouldn't go to the beach at night when you're drunk and high is that THEY SHOULDN'T HAVE TO! So you guessed it, Pothead Barbie gets cleaned out by a sneaker wave. She's completely soaked and JR and I had to wade out to our knees to retrieve her flip-flops. So we make it back to the car, only Dave doesn't want a wet pothead in his car. So she says, fine I'll take off my wet clothes, and proceeds to disrobe in the parking lot. JR smartly gives her his jacket, and we get back in the car. We make it back to the Ashley Inn, and here we come through the lobby again. Now there's two girls, one soaking wet and in her underwear and three guys shuffling along behind them. The look on the desk clerk's face was priceless.

Somehow, they convince us that they shouldn't stay at their hotel and they need to crash at our place. It's about 5 am and the sun's coming up by this point. So we get back to the house, and Dave says "who wants to go hunt for sand dollars?" Perfectly normal question if you know Dave. Girl #1 takes him up on it, and off they go to the beach, leaving me, JR and Pothead Barbie on the couch. About this time JR says, well I'm off to bed. Way to leave a man behind guys. So I sit on the couch with this stoner, and she is dozing off practically in my lap. So I try to ease my way off the couch and sneak off to get some sleep. I get about two steps from the couch and she says 'oh, we're going to bed?'

At this point I was too tired to argue. She follows me into the bedroom and we start making out. Then she starts tickling me. Anyone who has ever tickled me will tell you that I'm hyper-ticklish. She catches on to this and all of a sudden she's straddling me and holding my arms down. She says "so you're ticklish eh? well then I'm going to torture you all night." At this point, making out lost all its luster. I was just plain scared. She starts kissing my neck and I'm thinking I might become the first guy to be raped by a 5'2" weed fiend. Then............

She passes out! Right on top of me. So I roll her over to snore it off and just start laughing to myself. I laughed for a good minute probably.....until I realized that she wasn't breathing anymore. Now I'm scared. I'm trying to figure out how I'm going to explain to my grandparents how a stoned, drunk girl died in their beach house while I was in bed with her. I'm just about to start pounding on her chest when she lets out one of the most horrible noises I've ever heard and rolls over and starts snoring again like nothing happened. I can't even explain this noise. I imagine it's the noise made right before all the snow gives way in an avalanche. Just this low rumbling throaty disgusting sound.

And that was the craziest night of my life. Bar None.