I went out with some friends on Friday night. The temperature was fair. It wasn't too hot and it wasn't too cold. The city was lit by nearby buildings and businesses. Street lights lit the way in every direction. Once I had got to the car that my friends were waiting in, we drove in the direction of Centennial Park. The streets were filled with tourists, football fans, people coming and going to Dragoncon, and Atlanta's homeless people. A few people were out to show their gay pride, and they were not afraid to flaunt it. When it came to the football fans, I guess Alabama had beaten Virginia Tech. They were the drunk excited people that blurted out random things and stood in the middle of the street chanting their Alabama cheers. There was an Alabama fan shaking his butt outside the Ellis Hotel. All he could say was, "Go Alabama!" when we walked by. A drunk guy with a cup in his hand stood at the corner with his friend swaying from side to side speaking to anyone who walked by. We got closer to Centennial Park. The Britney Spears concert had just finished. Exhausted people flooded into the streets while a line of cars began to build at the streetlights. Football fans and Britney fans were heard all across the city that night. Once we had made our way through the crowd and parked, we walked across the street to the park. As we walked we still had to dodge and weave between the people who had rushed to downtown for some football or for a little bit of music. Centennial Park was filled with the small steps of children who had just finished running through the sprinklers. A bar-b-que truck nearby gave off a sweat odor mixing with the light chlorine smell from the nearby fountains. Couples and families sat cuddled up on the park benches looking over the city. A couple of people from the football game decided to take a shortcut through the park. As they walked by, they talked about football and Britney. They even asked if we had come from the concert. After that, we started exploring the park. My friends and I walked around reading the names on the bricks occasionally coming to one we couldn't pronounce. We laughed as we picked our future children's names from these bricks. I landed on the name Smykes while my friend landed on the name Scihimich. After forcing ourselves not to look down at the bricks because they were a distraction, we walked from Centennial Park to Underground Atlanta in hopes of finding something to eat along the way. We passed more celebrating football fans and creepy homeless people lurking around muttering to themselves. We stopped at a map to make sure we were headed in the right direction. More drunk people stumbled by as they made their way to the Marriott. Once we had set our course, we began looking for cheap restaurants. We passed Hard Rock, which nobody but me seemed to have enough money for, and headed toward Underground. Homeless people slept curled up under statues and benches. City goers enjoyed a nice evening out at dinner. We walked down Broad Street thinking Taco Bell or McDonald's would be open at this time of night. We were wrong. Once we got to Underground Atlanta, the only place that was opened was the Waffle House, which was jam packed. We decided to give up and call it a night. We walked back to where we had parked the car and drove back to GSU. I walked in, made a sandwich, and fell asleep in my room around 2 AM. What an interesting night I had had.