Summer of '69

Ok so apparently people are actually reading my posts and want me to continue to post. Cool.
Let’s recap the weekend.
The BGFF Is out of town on Flight Attendant Training. I mean do I even need to add the G into BGFF when describing a man in flight attendant training? Whatever. He’s away, and has been for about 3 weeks. Hence my boredom, hence my starting a blog.
So Friday I get an email with detailed instructions about my expected attendance to his sisters wedding. Sigh. All I need is another excuse to go shopping. I raced home from work, grabbed the visa and headed out. $250 later and I was so happy I could barely stand it. I got the most gorgeous dress on the planet, Black strapless with lace at the bottom. Heaven. And you can’t get a dress like that and then just match it with some costume jewelry you’ve had laying around the house since1999. No a dress like that called for new shoes (pink, kitten heels with pink ribbon bows) jewelry (2 rings, 8 bracelets, one necklace, and one pair of earrings) and lip gloss (Maybeline Shiny-licious). As I skipped home with my various goodies, I stopped to make a hair appointment for the next day and then burst through the door to host a (bringing it all together) fashion show for nate. He ooh’d and aww’d and poured me a drink.
We sat and chatted over wine. Much needed (the chat not the wine). We talked and talked and listened to the new Hidden Camera’s which (I’m sorry) is to Effing die for. Before long we were dressing up and dancing and joking around. By the time his friend called to have him go meet downstairs to head to a concert I was wearing jeans, a black tube top, my new shoes and all my new jewelry. All I had to do was swipe on some of my new lip gloss and I was ready to party.
We piled into Toni’s Beatle where Nate informed me that I had finished a bottle of wine myself ‘really?’ I said, ‘I don’t even feel drunk’. That’s when I should have gotten out of the car. So we raced to the concert which was in the Bacment of some seedy club that is of course the next best thing. Our friend who we’ve all known since college has a band who was playing. Now, his ‘album’ has been coming out ‘next month’ for about 2 years now, so I don’t feel guilty for only having caught the last song of the concert. Because a) this will not be the last ‘last concert before the cd drops’ b) I was able to sing along with the songs, whereas most others could not and c) JP was drunk out of his tree (to his credit-he still sounded decent).
So 2 vodka cranberries later and I suddenly felt that bottle of wine I had drank. It hit me when we were hanging out in the back room with the band and I grabbed JP’s face and said ‘Behave’ for no reason. We both laughed our asses off but inside I was thinking ‘what the eff was that’?! But that voice got quieter when I bought another vodka cranberry. Nate and I realized that we needed to get another drink but were both out of cash. The bouncer told us that next door had a bank machine.
Now when I tell you this place was small, I mean it. It was essentially a hallway with a table at the end and a bar lining one side. The bar back was as wide as the space allotted for patrons. It was crazy. And it was PACKED. Packed with hot boys. They were cranking John Mellencamp and everyone in the place was wasted. Nate and I somehow managed to snake our way through to the end where the bank machine was, get cash, order drinks and find a place to stand. Before long Bryan Adams ‘summer of 69’ was blasting and Nate and I had given in completely to our drunkenness, we were putting on a sexy dance show for everyone around us which we would occasionally stop and shout ‘it’s ok, he’s gay!!’ and burst into a fit of giggles as he grabbed my chest, or I grabbed his crotch. Needless to say, we made friends.
Finally, we ran out the door saying our goodbye’s (ahem ok I kissed the doorman goodbye while Nate pissed in the alley), jumped in a cab and headed for home.
Of course, I don’t remember getting home. But I did wake up in my clothes, new shoes and all my new jewelry. Nothing spells trash like… JASG