Grimace Haiku

A tequila shot

Biting lemons, lick the salt

Down the hatch, grimace!

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I’m Here for the Party!!!

   Today everyone participating in BlogFest 2012 was asked to share a party story and divulge whether we are the life of the party or the one sitting back being entertained.  Thank you Jenn @ Wine and Chat for this exciting writing prompt!  Before we are through, you will have a glimpse of the party beast that lies sleeping within waiting for a drop of alcohol to be unleashed on the world.   So here goes, sit back and enjoy the ride and feel free to join the fun!

      Back in my party years I would start the evening sitting back and being entertained for about 10 minutes and then after a drink or two I am the person to say “Let’s get this party started!!”  A mere sip of even one Mai Tai will unleash fits of giggles about absolutely nothing in particular.  Add in some rocking tunes and the beast in me comes alive.   After that every time the shot girl passes I am quick to announce “Shot girl!!!”, flag her over, down another, and share a high five with the assembled company.  A great tune gets played and I am good to go and run with friends to the dance floor.  Amazing what an Alabama slammer, a sex on the beach, and a tequila sunrise can do!!  Unless I am in the comfort of my own home in front of people that I am extremely comfortable with, you are unlikely to see me let loose in public without the help of alcohol.

       One time in my younger years I remember being at this bar to see a friend’s band play.  I had ordered a tequila sunrise, had several shots, and was well lit.  My friend and I were front and center in front of the band dancing with the crowd.  All of a sudden the band started playing a song I had never heard before but will never forget.   The riffs of the guitar kept us rocking but when the lead singer sang “She loves my cock!” my mouth dropped and my friends and I started laughing hysterically.  If that wasn’t enough towards the end of the song the lead singer grabbed a white towel and rolled it up and started swinging it around between his legs to the beat.  It was hysterical.  Towards the end of the song he threw the towel into the crowd and it hit me square in the face.  I grabbed it and whirled it over my head screaming and laughing.  Then it was back to the table for another round.  

        A group of guys bought my table a double shot of tequila for my exuberant display and I am told but don’t quite remember dancing on a table with my friend after that.  I remember staying till last call.  Somehow I managed to get myself home although I can’t say I remember how.  That in itself is a little scary, but I won’t dwell on past sins.  I remember unlocking the front door and feeling so HOT.  I started to strip as I came through the door.  By the time I stumbled my way through the dark house to the bathroom, I was naked.  I hung my sorry self in the toilet bowl when I heard my Dad call out “Are you OK?”  I yelled back “I am sick, I am drunk off my a$$, and I am naked!  Don’t turn on any lights!!” and then continued to toss my cookies and my lunch from what seemed a month of Sundays.  The world rocked for two days straight after that little episode.

        I really don’t know if I would say I am the life of the party but I am sure happy to get the party started and keep it rolling along.  With age comes sense and with marriage and children comes lack of extra money to pi$$ away on alcohol so on the most part my wild child days are in the past.  Thankfully, once I hit 40 I discovered I had the ability to act three sandwiches short of a picnic and loonier than a tune without any alcohol at all.  I’m here for the party and proud of it!!   On second thought, maybe I am the life of the party until next time when I give you another glimpse into the life of a trucker’s wife.

Jane's Story: What Really Happened that Night

     This is a fun, "fictional" story I wrote  for the GBE2 blogging prompt this week.  We were challenged to come up with a more interesting story to explain how our friend Jane ended up with 27 stitches.  This is my submission. I hope you enjoy it!

      Did you hear what happened to our dear friend Jane?  The last thing she remembers is sitting innocently at her computer working on her latest blog while sipping an innocent glass of wine.  According to Jane, she woke up in a pool of blood with a huge gash on her face and has no clue how in the world she got that way.  Can anyone possibly believe her innocent tale that she blacked out, banged her head into a wine glass which broke, and left the horrendous gash?  I am here to tell you the real story.


       

        Jane was home alone at the time.  For one reason or another, everyone was out busy elsewhere and Jane was left to her own devices.  She was primed for a good time, and was pretty sure she wasn’t going to find it staring at Face Book or working on the current blog she was struggling to write.  All of sudden her best friend instant messaged her.  “What are you doing?” Jane quickly typed in “Absolutely nothing.”  “Want to go to a concert at the coliseum?”  Jane didn’t even have to think twice.  She immediately typed in “Yes” and made plans for her friend to pick her up in 15 minutes.

          She raced to her bedroom,  threw on the perfect outfit, styled her hair, applied fresh makeup, grabbed her purse,  and was at the curb waiting when her friend drove up 15 minutes later.  In route to the coliseum Jane asked her friend who was playing and where their seats were located.  She really had no clue.  Her friend gave a little giggle and said with a grin “We are going to see Nickelback, and we don’t have tickets!”  Now Jane knew her friend was nuts. How in G0d’s name were they going to get in without tickets??  After a quick stop at a local bar and a double shot of courage better known as tequila the ladies were up for the task to try just about anything.

       The double shot of tequila had warmed Jane from the inside out.  She felt good, even better than good. She felt that she could do anything.  They approached the stage entrance trying to figure out a way to get in when a group of people came out.  Jane grabbed her friend’s hand and they mingled in the crowd coming out and slipped inside without anyone noticing.

      “Holy $hit! What do we do now?? We are so going to get kicked out of here!!”  Her friend smiled a wicked grin and grabbed Jane’s hand dragging her toward the stage where music could be heard and a crowd roared their approval.  A guard built like a Mac truck stopped them in route demanding to see their backstage passes. “Oh Lordy, this was it! This was the moment they would get thrown out.  Jane was about to admit they didn’t have backstage passes when her friend quickly explained they were told they would receive their passes once they were inside.   Looking frazzled the man whipped two passes out of his pocket and handed them over telling them to take their places on the side of the stage.

      The music was loud, and the beats of the drums deafening. Jane and her friend jumped up and down and sang along as the band rocked the crowd.    At precisely the moment that the lead singer sang “She looked so much cooler with something in her mouth”, Jane backed up a little to far and fell backwards off the stage bouncing off a speaker as she went.  Security rushed forward and the concert came to a standstill as everyone in proximity rushed forward to give Jane assistance.  Her cheek was bleeding profusely.  The ambulance was called, and Jane was rushed to the local ER where she received 27 stitches for her moment in the spotlight.  The fall had knocked her unconscious.  Between the tequila, the gash on her cheek, and the concussion she received Jane didn’t completely know how she came to be at the hospital, why she was bleeding, or even how she made it back home.  It was all a blur.

         If anyone asked, she simply had blacked out while sitting at her computer screen, broke a wine glass which cut her face, and received 27 stitches.  G0d only knew what happened to her underwear, why she was dressed to the nines for a quiet evening at home, or even what she had really done to her cheek to warrant stitches.  Sometimes the truth is a little hard to believe with the only souvenir that remains a fiery red scar and 27 stitches for Jane’s wild night with Nickelback.