Debauchery

I' m such a hooker! I promise you a story once again and....pbffft...nothing. So here goes! 

So I may have mentioned the other day I'm not really a bar person. Alcohol for me is a give or take. A nice glass of wine- sure whatever. A beer on a hot day - sounds great. A beautifully presented Martini before dinner-lovely. I don't usually drink at home. I won't necessarily go to a bar and have a drink.  As a matter of fact I think I count on one hand the amount of times I've sat  at an actual bar when I wasn't out with friends (clubbing) (yes- I do think they should take away my mom license for using that word). 2/3 of those times were at an airport. 

I hate sports with every fiber of my being, except boxing and UFC, which really isn't a sport but more of a chance for me to ogle really hot guys while they beat the crap out of each other. Ummmm...give me a sec.....

Ok I'm back! Therefore it's not like I'll go and sit at a bar to watch a game. I don't necessarily see the draw of sitting at a bar and drinking. 

Now if you are talking coffee- that is a whole different story. I'll blow you for a good cup of coffee. I'll run naked through the streets, lifting my top for a cup of espresso. I'll paint half my face one color and the other half a contrasting color for a grande mocha with extra foam. If it were legally possible to marry a hot beverage...break out the parade baby, I will lead the pack.

But I may have to change my stance. Sitting at a bar might kinda rock. 

Except I may no longer be allowed at the bar I like so...hmmm...dilemma. 

What happened you may ask...well let me tell you...

Saturday Night was V's birthday- the big 34. Her only request was to go to dinner at Elephant Bar and then to Fannie Ann's for some hardcore drinking. No problem. 

Six of us piled in the mini-van cuz nothing says come and get it than a mini-van from the suburbs- with Annette's husband as the DD. Why Annette's husband? Because he insisted. Apparently the last time these 5 suburban hotties went to Fannie Ann's- they may have been a little wild--- really wild, crazy wild.  

He dropped us at the front like it was a first day of kindergarten and promised to not show back up until 2am. 

All I can tell you (because everything else is in the vault) is those girls are I-N-S-A-N-E. Just by looking at them, I do not think you could tell one of them was married. Was it the excessive cleavage? Was it the grabbing the bouncer by his pierced nipples (which despite what you may think -he really liked a lot)? Was it the girl-on-girl spanking, hair grabbing and slutty dancing? Was it the excessive flirting with the bartender? Was it the...wait I can't talk about that...it's a vault thing. Was it the grinding dancing with anyone on the dance floor? Was it the excessive fondling? 

I couldn't keep up- me the single one. I had to at some point in the night excuse myself and go sit at the bar. 

I see the draw now. It's nice at the bar. A wonderful, beautiful man brings you drinks all night...sweet but not frothy. You talk, he talks, the guy sitting next to you talks. More drinks come, some of which you don't have to buy yourself. You learn all about the people around you, none of which you will remember the next day. Baby-faced but really cute men will ask for your phone number. You'll give it to them even though you know without a doubt you will never in a million years go out with the very cute but possibly many years younger boy-men. Plus all of those lovely drinks that the delightful man behind the bar brings to you. 

This will go on for several hours until you stagger off at the stool because it's 2am and Dad (I mean the DD) is coming to get you. 

Unfortunaltey I can never in a million years go there ever again-EVER!!!! Why you may ask? 

Is it because the DD showed up early and watched as two of the lovely ladies of my party were outside feeling up (and being felt up) by the bouncer? I believe the words ass-grabbing were used. Was it at the end of the night when one of the ladies from my party snuck up to go to the bathroom right before they booted us out and we were outside waiting for her, Dad (I mean the DD) pounded on the doors demanding she come out right away? ---And then threatening to call the police when they wouldn't let him in? Was it the lecture we got on the way home? Was it the tattling to their respective husbands?  Any of those may qualify...

Truly though... no-it was the bitch of a hang-over the next day thing. Oh my dear lord, sweet jesus. 

Do you remember back in the day? Partying, dancing, drinking all night long, going to Denny's at 3am for a moons over my hammy, going home to take a shower and a 30-minute refresher nap and getting up to go to work the next day? Working all day and then wash-rinse-repeat the next night? 

Not now....no...I was dying. Despite my 3am bean burrito, 7 glasses of water and 2 aspirin before bed.... I do so believe being ran over by a semi may have hurt less. The endless spinning, the throwing up...Linda Blair called and asked if I could take it down a notch. 

NEVER AGAIN.

Well, maybe.

Debauchery