Crash and Burn Saturday

It takes a lot to make me angry. By nature, I'm just not a very angry person. I am very non-confrontational. Last night, LIVID doesn't begin to describe my emotions. 

Let's begin:

The standing plans were this: Ryan and I were planning on going to the Wave. Ryan needed me to pick him up from work so Rob could keep the car to drive home since he was getting off later. I was supposed to pick up Ryan, and we'd go back to his house to get ready. 

This is how it actually went. A woman I know through church and through community theater productions recently asked me if I would be willing to help out in a play. The play is called "Inherit The Wind," and it's about the SCOPES trial. It's about a court trial dealing with teaching Darwinism in school. It takes place in the 1920s. They needed 12 men to sit on this jury, no speaking roles, just sitting. I told the woman I would do it. So she told me to be at the theater by 6:30PM. Everyone else didn't show up until 7:00PM and the show didn't even start until 8:00PM

I showed up super early, around six. I sat in my car, nodding off. My head kept rolling down, and I'd yank it back up. Koi got off work at six and came by to see me at the theater. I was parked right out front, and I just remember nodding off and waking up to see him pointing and laughing at me in my car. 

"You pulling a George Michael there?" he asked. We laughed. Koi towered over me. He's so tall, I love it. I looked him up and down. Flip flops. It was in the forties, and even I, bundled up five times more heavily than Koi, managed to still feel the cold winds. He had his toenails done in a midnight blue color that is supposed to be the new "it" color according to Allure. Koi does nails, and facials, and spa treatments. He walked closer to me and clumsily spilt what looked like coffee in a travel mug.

"Ooh, was that hot?" I asked, hoping it hadn't landed on his bare feet (not that it would've been a bad thing seeing as heat sounded pretty good right then).

Koi just shook his head no. 

"What is that?" I asked, now noticing two straws sticking out of the top of the mug. 

"Vodka and diet." So smooth. He didn't even bat an eyelash. I took a sip. We stood outside, smoked a cigarette and chatted. He leaned in and kissed me twice for no reason. I just kept talking like it never happened. We sat in my car briefly before Koi left. I went inside the theater. That's when I realized I was extremely early. I didn't know anyone. I waited for the costumer to arrive. She fitted me in a blue shirt with a white collar, blue bow tie, and some suspenders. A young girl did my hair. She flat ironed out the flips and curls and proceeded to pin in with bobby pins and spray it (holding the spray can one inch from my head). I could feel the cold liquid from the spray on my head. I could almost hear each individual piece of my hair screaming out, "Please Ryan! Don't let her do this to us!!" I looked in the mirror to see a 1920's slicked side part. I immediately wanted to find the nearest trash can and vomit. I dealt with it. I waited with other people; they told me what to do. I was quiet. Upstairs in the dressing room, I was introduced to quite possibly the largest gay man I've ever met before. He was very very round, semi-young (I'd say mid to late twenties), but very nice. He smiled a lot and asked me about myself being a juror. He spoke briefly of a director I had worked with before, and told me how he saw my performance in A Chorus Line, and how it was the only REAL part in the whole production to him at least anyways. He was very intrusive. I didn't like the way he felt so close to me and didn't know me at all. He even had the audacity to ask what I was doing later on that night (as if I would've gone with him and a group of complete strangers to get trashed and sing karaoke!). I told him I had plans, and somehow managed to slip past him and head downstairs. One woman named Erica introduced herself out of the blue and started talking about her son. He's normally one of the jury members but was spending the evening with friends. He's an art student at TNCC where I go currently. He wants to transfer to VCU. I got the feeling that Erica was trying to play match maker. She kept telling me I'd have to come back to meet her son (I think his name was Kevin). I appreciated the gesture, and I wouldn't mind if my mom outsourced for me, but let's be honest, I don't know what Erica's son looks like. It would be completely different if she whipped a cut out picture from her pocketbook and said, this is him. I would've either immediately shown interest, or immediately said, "Oh that's nice, but I don't think my boyfriend would appreciate that. He's very jealous," lying of course. Erica left me alone after a while. 

I was under the impression that this jury scene was just in the first act or just in the second act, or just for a short while. It was the entire duration of the play. It was horrible. My bony ass was becoming bruised from sitting in the hard wooden chair. The man that played the juror next to me was attractive. He had a little stomach on him, but he was built husky. He was tall and hairy and had dark brown hair with electric blue eyes. His facial hair showed a lot of regrowth, and I couldn't keep my eyes off of him. He wore a ring around his ring finger but it really didn't look like a wedding band. I couldn't see it to well in the dark behind stage. I'm not worried about it though, but he kinda told me what to do and pushed me around a little bit. He didn't really show any emotion at all, but I liked it. He was the only decent thing there. Since the play started at 8PM, intermission hit at 9PM. I checked my voicemail. 

"Hey it's me, I'm ready, you can come get me. Call me, bye." It was Ryan. 

"FUCK," I thought to myself. I called him up at work. I told him that I still had another hour to go, but I would leave as soon as I could. I was starting to feel the crunch. Act two went by fairly quickly, and before I could go out to take my bows with everyone else, I ran upstairs to change. I pulled out the bobby pins, but none of my hair moved. I was not very happy about this. I walked out the back door with my bags full of clothes and makeup. I walked behind the theater to get back around front. I walked through headlights of a parked police car that was monitoring the alleyway. I felt safe. I called Ryan. 

"Hey, we're not gonna have time to go to The Wave, let's just go to the Pocket. By the time we get to the Wave it's gonna be one thirty and everyone leaves at two anyways."

My jaw hit the floor. Ryan was the one who so adamantly made me agree to not fall back on my plans of swearing off the Pocket. I was heated now. There was no convincing Ryan though.

"Just go to Janel's house, get ready. I'll bring the car back to Rob and you can meet me at work."

I agreed. I headed quickly to Janel's house. It was already ten thirty. I walked past some of Janel's husband's family members as they watched a movie in the den. Janel let me use her bathroom. I leaned over the tub and released my hair from the Aquanet shackles that had been holding it down. I blow dried quickly, sprayed quickly, and changed so fast, it was a blur. I ran out of Janel's as quickly as I arrived. I called Ryan again at his work now. He told me Rob was almost done and ready to leave. I told him I was on my way though. I pulled into the parking lot and called inside on my cell. The girl that answered said that I just missed him. 

"No, he just called me from here a second ago," I protested, now increasingly irritated by the blone bimbo bitch I was imagining on the other end of the line.

"Sorry honey, he left like five minutes ago."

CLICK. I didn't want to hear it.

Ryan and Rob don't have cell phones, so I called the house. Voicemail. I'm so hot, my blood is boiling at this point. I've driven all over God's green Earth trying to coordinate the rides and the prep time and this and that. Ryan has changed the original plan from one great bar to one shitty bar. I'm hot. I leave a message on the home phone and told him flat out, "I'm going to the Pocket, just meet me there."

I received a phone call a few minutes after.

"Didn't you hear a car horn when you were pulling into my work?" Ryan asked.

"No, I'm sure my music was loud."

"Well we were pushed out of the parking lot before I could get your attention... Where are you at now?"

"I'm on 64, heading towards the Pocket." At this point, it's 11:40PM. The drag show and male dancers start at midnight.

"Why don't you just come to the house?" he asked. 

"Ryan, it's already so late, I'm going out."

"Fine, have a great night." He said this with no enthusiasm at all.

"But Ryan, don't you want to--" CLICK. 

I didn't even get to finish. He hung up on me. You can paint a mental image of me driving down the interstate. I'm going fifteen miles per hour in excess of the limit. My hair is fierce and I'm dressed to kill. My best friend just hung up on me after I've jumped through flaming hoops all night. I gripped the steering wheel so tight, if I pulled my hands away from it, I would've expected to see my fingernails ripped off and stuck on the wheel. I clenched my teeth so tight, I was waiting for them to shatter and explode into a million tiny pieces, sending shards of enamel and fine sprays of blood all over my windshield. 

I tried to count. I tried to level with myself. I knew Koi was still meeting me out, so I still had a chance to redeem the evening. Ryan called back. I answered reluctantly. 

"We'll meet you out, I'm just waiting for Rob to get ready, he wanted to go."

"That wasn't part of the plan," I spat at him.

"I know." So they were going to come out after all. 

Ryan managed to bitch me out over the phone before ending that call about how my overbooking with this play ordeal caused this whole mess and ruined the whole night. I tried to explain that I had no idea about the level of this commitment and it was out of my hands. 

I got to the Pocket in one piece, and pulled myself together enough to keep cool on the outside. I was short with everyone I ran into at first. I chain smoked silently, keeping to myself and trying to pace myself on the liquor. 

I stood to the side and talked to a lesbian friend I know from school. I met her girlfriend and I loosened up. Ryan and Robert showed up after a little while. I hugged them both sweetly, making sure to ask Robert how his shift was. I didn't want him to feel unwelcome, and anyways, there are certain social obligations and appearances to maintain. I love Rob to death, but he has some facets of his personality that I don't quite care for. When these become visible to me, I loose all interest in being around him at any level. He made it though last night fine though. Koi showed up later after not responding to two of my text messages. The show didn't even start until 12:25PM. The bar was SLAMMED. There were tons of new faces, straight couples, gay couples, girls even. I was surprised at how young the crowd was. We didn't have our regular Saturday night buddies Rob and Lenny. We made the best of the evening, sticking to our circle of Ryan, Rob, me, and Koi. Our mutual friend Jimmy found his was over to us and stuck by us for a while too, eventually treating us to another round. My drinks were served in short plastic SOLO cocktail glasses. I always get normal drinking glasses there. It's a known fact that more liquor fits in the glasses. I guess it was just so crowded, he didn't feel like doing dishes last night. I was pissed though. I looked at it and thought, "This is my punishment for standing behind the bar again," because I sure as hell was. I moved out of the way. Ryan had one of these plastic cups too, but halfway through the night, he came up to me with a REAL glass and said, "Haha, look, I graduated!" pointing to the glass and laughing at me. Just because my drink was in plastic doesn't mean it wasn't any stronger than normal. In fact, I think my drinks were much stronger last night. By the time I finished number two, I was completely LIT. I love it. I was dancing and moving my head. I even hollered out at the drag queens. Cora would beg for dollars and I'd scream out "You needy bitch!" I'd mock her, "Can I get a dolla? Five dollas?" Cora came over to us (Ryan and I) during the show. She's blind as a bat without her glasses, and I mean that. She can take a dollar bill and hold it three inches from her face before realizing, Ooooh, that's a ten. She moved close to Ryan, getting a foot from his face before realizing it was the other Ryan. I turned to Cora, "I'm right here!"

"Oh there ya are hunnay!" She turned to Ryan, "Give me a dolla."

Ryan spat back, "He's got it," and pointed to me. 

"He don't have to pay me." Cora knows I got mad love for her, and that love has never included the transfer of money from my wallet to hers, and never will. I simply don't carry cash, so all the queens know, I love them to death, but I don't tip. 

CoraVette Colby went back to the stage.

"Can I get a dolla hunny!?" And let me tell you, that bitch stood up there and begged for dollas for at least TWENTY MINUTES. She walked by every person in the bar asking for one dolla, two dollas, and some people gave her more. She's funny about it though. Nobody really minds. It's stupid really, but by doing it that way, she makes a lot of money. The bar was so full she had a hard time moving from the back to the stage. I didn't even watch the male dancer, and by the end of the second half of the show, I had drank 4 rum and diets. 

Ryan gave me the official intoxication test. He said, "You're not drunk until you're on the floor under a pool table." I sat down my drink and fell to the floor, rolling under the pool table and then getting back up. Ryan just held his hand over his mouth and laughed. I was laughing so hard. I do shit like that just to make him laugh. "That's how I know you're drunk," he told me. 

"You know that carpet hasn't been vacuumed since the day he bought this place," Ryan joked. I still don't really think that's a joke though. I've never once even seen a vacuum cleaner in there. I heard someone brought in a Dyson, but some idiot broke it. Five hundred dollars of guaranteed suction, WASTED. Frank bitches at people when they ash their cigarettes on his floor. I do it when it's crowded and I can't get to an ash tray, but I normally find an ash tray. The carpet he has in that bar is INDOOR/OUTDOOR carpet. You could literally shit on it and hose it off. I'm sure of it. I haven't seen it done, but I think that's what you do with indoor/outdoor carpet. It makes me think of astroturf. 

I opted to buy the breakfast buffet. This is a first for me. Frank rung me up and told me to help myself.

"I can't believe it. I need to get my camera, she does eat!" Frank hooted. 

"I've never seen her eat before!" and he pretended to take pictures of me shoveling food into my mouth with an imaginary camera. Ryan's eyes widened as he took a look at what was on my plate. Tons of scrambles eggs, at least five pieces of jumbo sausage, bacon, biscuits, and potatoes. I ate it all and went back for a second helping. 

Ryan turned to me, "Rob took a look at your plate and said he wanted to get the buffet too." We laughed. I knew his ass was out there in the parking lot smokin' weed at half time between the shows. His eyes were bloodshot. He filled his plate up slowly with great care, smiling the entire time. It was nothing like my mahem-method of filling my plate. I shoveled it onto the plate as quickly as I could, and stood over it with my mouth open, shoveling it back with a plastic fork. I finished my second plate and walked over to Ryan who was standing next to Rob. Ryan picked a piece of scrambled eggs off Rob's plate and threw them on the floor. 

"This is a test, we'll come back next week to see if those eggs are still on the floor." I nearly died right there on the spot. The mental image of moldy eggs covered in cigarette ash and dust filled my head. I know that those eggs will be there on Tuesday. 

You know, it really didn't even taste that bad, the buffet that is. It wasn't until this morning that I woke up with the BG's (bubbly gut). I ran to the bathroom and released the demons (as my girl Dallas would say).  I missed the 11AM church service this morning. I spent the night out (but I will not disclose my whereabouts for fear of tainting my shining reputation--yeah right), arriving home at 10:30AM. I knew Chad had people over last night. He had warned me. 

Bad Signs (in order of sighting upon arriving home):

1. At least three cigarette buts found scattered on the walkway, front steps, and lawn

2. A bottle of cheap watermelon vodka and Jose Cuervo on the kitchen counter

3. A sink full of at least ten drinking glasses/McDonald's cup/Ravioli can

4. Fridge full of leftover beer

5. The trash can was overloaded with Taco Bell to go bags

Chad's car was in the driveway, but he wasn't here this morning. In fact, he's still not here now and it's 1:13PM already. Mom and dad don't come home until tomorrow, and Chad has already been informed that last night was his night, TONIGHT IS MINE. He said there were a couple girls at his party, well I'm going to have a couple guys at mine.

I spent my first moments in the house rinsing out the sink, filling the dishwasher, and throwing out the trash. I really shouldn't have even done that for him, but I don't want my friends to come over to a disaster area this evening. I need to make more phone calls. I want an all out house party. The new 2 hour made-for-TV movie Night Rider comes on tonight for the first time on NBC at 9PM. I want to drink some and watch that with friends, then shoot the shit, lay low, listen to music, play some drinking games, maybe fuck with that old Ouija board that belonged to my aunt that I have in my car trunk right now (don't ask).

I'm going to make some telephone calls, start this dirty laundry, and see if I can't hunt down Chad. I don't know where he could be. Ryan's off work until five tonight, so I need to call him too and give him a nice little recap.