Can't sleep, clowns will eat me.

The other night on our way to a dance club my friends and I were waiting for the elevator in an underground parking garage.  The occupants of the elevator descending could be heard from their place above, high screeching laughter and giggles filled the small lobby and Nat, Carl and I all exchanged smug glances.  As the elevator took its place on our floor and began to open, the three of us reflexively crammed behind a nearby column and sneakily peeked around it like a trio of Jim Henson goblins.  The girls tumbled forth from the elevator and one by one as they spied our sinister peering they began to squeal and scream and huddle into each other and one girl cried out, “rape whistle!” as they hurriedly pushed themselves as one entity through the door into the parking garage.  Carl, Nat and I laughed and laughed and laughed.  I think I’ve found a new calling in life.