Sunday, May 18, 2008

Blue Collar Birthdays

Last night we celebrated a three-pack of birthdays. SweetPea, LB and A. All three have birthdays three days apart, in that order. We were supposed to start at Joe's Crab Shack, and then head to Hooters. Except that Joe's won't start your wait time until your entire party is there. The wait was at an hour when we were there, and we were still waiting for the three boys (A, B and T). There was nine of us total - SweetPea, Neighbor and I, our new friend C, LB and her sister "Gem", and the boys. So we talked the girls into skipping ahead to Hooters. After Hooters, we dropped off B and T because they were drunker than shit, and then headed to a bowling alley where we proceeded to spend the remainder of the evening in the bowling alley bar (which was called the Crestroom, and, yes, that cracked me up all night long) during karaoke night.

Now to the nitty gritty. B and T were accidentally invited by SweetPea, who had no idea what she was getting us into by doing so. B invited A because he needed a ride.

Party Foul Number One: B came with us on our grand adventure, which was to include two not exactly inexpensive destinations even though he had no money to his name. The boys got lost, ran out of gas, and were running on fumes again by the time they got down to Hooters.

Party Foul Number Two: T was already drunk when we got to Hooters, even though T doesn't turn 21 until December. Apparently, B thought it would be funny to get him drunk.

Party Foul Number Three: B proceeded to order three pitchers of Bud Light (even though he had no money), of which he drank two by himself. Half of the first pitcher was downed by LB and Gem, and the last half of the last pitcher I gave to some guys sitting at the table next to us. B got completely shit-faced, virtually catatonicly drunk.

Party Foul Number Four: As everyone was preparing to vacate Hooters, B leaned over and spit on the bar stool next to him. Not to waste time going into too much detail, B behaved inappropriately pretty much the entire evening.

Party Foul Number Five: LB and Gem insisted on driving themselves to the next destination, even though there were enough sober people to handle all the vehicles and even though, between them, they'd shared half a pitcher of Bud Light and half a pitcher of Widmer Bros. Heffeweisen. SweetPea and I had tried talking them into letting C drive. When they refused, she asked C if she'd at least ride with them, to which C replied "Nope. They've been drinking, I'm not riding with them." (snaps for C)

SweetPea drove the boys in A's vehicle and had to call me partway there to ask us to meet her at a gas station because the vehicle was running on fumes and there was no money in the vehicle at all (I had all SweetPea's cash and cards). So we met her at the gas station and put $10 in the tank. We then followed her while she took B home and then T. Both were pissed off at being left behind.

Party Foul Number Six: If sober people tell you it's time for you to go home, even if nobody else is, that should tell you something. What it should tell you is that you're too obnoxious to live.

We went to the bowling alley to bowl, and ended up spending the entire time in the bar. Listening to karaoke, smoking on the patio, and then signing LB up to sing Honkey Tonk Badonkadonk. Which, we found out, she's never even heard! Oops!

This started a war in which she signed SweetPea up to sing Heart's Magic Man (which she totally would have rocked, by the way, had she not stolen the slip off the dj's table). SweetPea then signed LB and I up to sing Eminem's The Real Slim Shady.

And, yes, I did get up there, and I did sing it.

Well, as much as you can sing an Eminem song. The problem was that they didn't include certain of the more "colorful" phrases, but kept the same tempo and continued with the next words immediately. Because I know the song well, I was doing it correctly, and then getting screwed up because I was behind the text.

Are you thinking, right about now, that we're out of Party Fouls because we dropped the boys off?

A actually turned out to be pretty cool once he was on his own.

We hung out for a couple of hours, LB and Gem kept right on drinking (including Irish Car Bombs, of which LB slammed two, back to back). I quit drinking when we left Hooters, because I already was getting a headache. SweetPea never drinks, Neighbor didn't because she thought she'd lost her Designated Driver (SweetPea), and C doesn't really drink.

The thing about LB is that she's extremely flirtatious, sober, and gets really bad the more drinks you get in her. Mostly with the ladies, even though she, so far, has professed to be straight.

The thing about C is that she's pretty new to being lesbian and isn't that experienced, and, also, doesn't really know the rules of the game.

Namely: the straight girls are strictly off limits, especially and particularly when drunk.

Party Foul Number Seven: As Neighbor, SweetPea, C and I were leaving, LB leans into the truck to give me hugs. I have no idea the conversation that's going on, but, all of a sudden, LB pops off with "I don't mind being groped". So C, who was sitting behind me in the bitch seat, reached up and grabbed herself a handful of tit.

All I can say is that my head hurt so much I was actually nauseous, and that was the only thing that saved C from getting a faceful of open palm.

SweetPea and Neighbor are going to sit C down and have a chat with her about the do's and don'ts of straight girls. Which are mainly don'ts. If they're sober and consenting, that's one thing. Once the drinking starts, though, it's hands off. The end. Especially when we're talking about LB.

SweetPea is also going to have a sit down with LB about how, sometimes, you gotta watch who you're doing what with. Because some women just don't have any respect. I'm hoping that, in C's case, it's just because she doesn't know any better.

Today was lazy as hell. I'm sure I didn't get in nearly as much water, napping or cold air as I'd have liked to. And maybe grocery shopping should have played a role in my day. Or laundry. But we did rescue the Monkeys, who were charred as hell and have looked like they're on the verge of tears ever since we got them. Neither of them will cop to what's wrong, but I have a feeling their dad isn't smart enough to keep his damn mouth shut about some things he has no business talking about in front of them.

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