It was Friday, July 31, 1987. 

I’d called the unemployment office to tell ’em I had a job.  My last check would be coming a week from today – the same time I’d be getting my first check from the freelance writing gig. 

I hatched a plan, one that I’d never hatched before, and until the advent of the MOB, have never hatched since; I was going to throw a party.

I started calling all my friends, inviting them to the Mitch’s Final Unemployment Check Party.  The intention:  spend (at least a big part of) my final unemployment check (all $200-odd dollars of it) on a big summer blow-out. 

People started accepting. 

It was going to be fun.