Last night Wayne and I headed to The Big City (wasn't that a Little House book?) for a night of revelry. I even put on make-up. That, my friends, is only done for special occassions--usually weddings and funerals, but I tend to apply my face more often than ever before...now that I am 36.
We met some friends at The Crab Pot. None of us had ever been there before; it was so fun and so yummy. They boil a bunch of seafood with andouille and corn cobs and dump it right on the table, which is covered in butcher paper. You get a wooden mallet and a wooden board to smash crabs with. It was so much food,and it was so good.
Afterwards we hit Giggles-- another first for me. We saw That Guy, who is going to be on this show Tuesday and Wednesday. He was really funny. I'm not a big laugher, I guess. Wayne really enjoys comedy shows on TV and on XM, but they usually just annoy me. Ron Pearson's show was actually quite hilarious, but it may have helped that I had low expectations. I laughed til I hurt. That can't be a bad thing.
Then it was time to head back to our little suburban bubble.
Wayne wasn't ready to go home because he didn't get his drink on at the comedy club; they serve stronger drink at the ta-ta bars around here, which at least don't pretend to be alcoholic drinks.
Okay, so this was when the fun started-- back in our insulated suburban bubble at The Mexican Restaurant, which was full-on celebrating St Patrick's Day. Of course. For some reason, I forgot that it was a Big Irish Holiday and never once did it cross my mind that it would be celebrated with such gusto at the mexican restaurant lounge.
It was, by far, the most amusing night I have experienced in awhile.
There is nothing like watching the mating rituals of drunk women (mostly) and sober men (mostly). See, I noticed last night that men tend to stay a wee bit more sober than women when trying to hook up at a bar. I never realized this when I was actually one of the drunk women at the bar. Maybe it's because they are afraid that they won't get it up if they are too drunk. They may pass out and miss an opportunity to get laid. Who knows.
The women who were there all appeared to be in their early to mid-ish 20s. All of them, fat and skinny; cute and scary; drunk and drunker were into the bump and grind, and it was not done gracefully.
One girl, who I called T&A, was dancing with an off-duty employee of the restaurant (he was our drink server when my mommy friends and I went out for much needed and deserved margaritas); he kept trying to do these not-so-fancy spins with her, which made her stumble off balance. She was much better at grinding her ass into his crotch.
The guy also would dance with a blonde girl (Future PTA Mom) who just looked frigid. She was dancing with an older (like, even older than me) hispanic guy. She had "that look." You know-- you've probably given that look to someone. It's a look that is reserved for a guy who asks you to dance, but you don't want to dance and most of all, you want everyone to know that you most certainly are not interested in him and that dancing with him is just slightly more pleasant than having your toenails pulled out with pliers. But when she danced with Waiter Dude, she tried to be sexy. She definitely did not have "that look" when she danced with Waiter Dude.
It was a sort of Bump and Grind competition between the Future PTA Mom and T&A. I was totally rooting for T&A. She kind of reminded me of myself (but i didn't have the T&A she was sporting-- I was all about the stumbling, though).
All the while, there is this horrible, awful music that I think is used by hostage negotiators to flush out the bad guys. Yucky rap. Censored rap on top of that. Like, aren't we all over 21? What kind of DJ plays bleeped music? Oh, I know... a chubby white boy who tries to look all gangsta but who lives IN THE BURBS. Ugh.
The DJ had a friend and some girls with him. They were hard to look at but also very hard to look away from. One guy would get between two of the girls and "dance" (waving his arms while bending his knees), and the girls would gracefully move away from him. Like, ew. Still much bumping and grinding. This group did a very sloppy mating ritual. Their bumping and grinding seemed so...wrong. They had no rythym. I wanted to go out to the one girl and tell her to slow it down a little.
In came the P-town Posse.
I could tell right away who the Alpha Female was. She was wearing a full length dog hair coat. I so wanted to take a picture, but that might have caused a ruckus. The coat looked like maybe German Shepard. She was stylin' and profilin' with a sexy accessory that complemented her dog fur so perfectly.
With her was a guy dressed all in white, what appeared to be denim. Head to toe denim. he had a white hat, which he paired with a green bandana. Under the hat. Next him was Big Red. All red attire. He was trying to sing along to some of the songs, but it was like watching a dubbed kung-fu movie.
It was so amusing to sit back and watch all these younger people do their thing. It made me a little embarrassed about what I was doing 12 years ago. Ugh. I can't even think of it because I know I would die from humiliation.
Oh, and I did text Dryke a very poor video of our night out. It just isn't a good late night if I don't contact Dryke and Reane while I am in some state of inebriation (4 (?) mojitos), but back in the day, I always had to call them because that was way before text messaging. Now they get a break-- just a text. i wouldn't want to get yelled at for waking Laura.