I can only imagine the weekend went something like this --
"Hey! Dude! What's up?! Long time, no see."
"Good to see you too! ...Want to play beer pong?"
"Let's go grab dinner somewhere. Where should we go?"
"It's 10 am. Want to play beer pong?"
"We're going out tonight! Pregaming like champs!"
"We're going to close down the bars!"
"So, it's after midnight. Are you tired? Yeah, me too."
"Let's get an Uber home."
"I'm so glad we called it a night at the bars. I'm exhausted."
"Me too. ...Want to play beer pong?"
"Shoot. The draft is in an hour. Who's playing this year??"
"Here - you can borrow my stats spreadsheet. It's in Excel. Each sheet is broken down into RBIs, free throw averages, and which college they played at before going pro. I ran some calculations based on the data to see who's most likely to go in the first round. If you need any help interpreting the graphs, just let me know."
"We just ate our weight in wings. Want to go get a milkshake?"
"GAWD. Who stunk up the bathroom and didn't light the candle?!"
"It's was me! Ahahahaha!! ... Who wants to play beer pong?"
"You're a disgusting human, but I'm in."
Oh, Labor Day. I'm so sad to be missing out on all the bro-ing that I'm going to go drown my sorrows in the salt water pool and get hella tan while reading a book and jamming to Taylor Swift in my headphones. It's just so sad. I can barely handle it.