Friday afternoon Brit returned from a day of job interviews at about two o’clock. I was relaxing in her living room, judging all of the Real Housewives when she announced, it is time to drink! The day of so profesh behavior had frayed her nerves, so we hopped in the welfare wagon and headed to the shanty. The Shanty is around the size of a double-wide and everybody knows your name. We love it. We arrived at three o’clock. The bartender working was a friendly-middle aged man we’ve befriended through our patronage and it wasn’t long until the free shots started flowing. House specialty shots of the pineapple or cherry variety, jaeger… by four we knew we couldn’t make it to dinner with Brit’s boyfriend, Chris. He had intended to make us shrimp alfredo, but alas, it was not to be.
There was an elderly African-American vet drinking in the afternoon as well. At one time or another both Brit and I had altercations with this man. He tended to be a little too friendly. Today was no exception. He sauntered over and greeted us both with wet kisses on our necks. He told Brit to stop cutting her hair. He then told me I had beautiful hair. I agreed, and we all returned to our free shots, insulting remarks be damned!
Throughout the evening he pointed at me from across the bar, gestured to imaginary long locks on himself, then gave me two thumbs up. Each time he did this I awkwardly laughed out of discomfort and took another shot. This, naturally, led to a very drunk state which drove me to “break the seal”. On the way back from the bathroom he caught me and started babbling. Early in the day he is difficult to understand, by this time it was nearly impossible. At some point in his speech I realized that he was referring to Brit, my dear zucchini, as my “old lady” and told me I shouldn’t “go back to her”! I responded with, “WHAT!” and almost blew the most convenient protection ever. I almost corrected him, but common sense stepped in and I responded with, “but I love her very much!” Thank God for mislead preconceived notions and total density since my “old lady” was sitting beside her boyfriend!
Other highlights of the night include Chris showing up at the bar, having been led to believe we had just stopped in for a few drinks before dinner to find Brit and I completely shnockered before even eight o’clock. I consider this phase one of his hazing process. Around this time I also started calling people in the area and demanding they meet me at the bar. The general response was something along the lines of “How drunk ARE you?” and “Geez, Nat, what time is it even?” to which I recoiled and hissed,
“THIS IS MY VACATION!”
At one point a patron walked in who I was somewhat embarrassed to run into. Did I greet them like a mature adult, saying hello and returning to my seat? Nope. I crawled underneath the bar and sent Brit on a mission to confirm their identity. Turns out it wasn’t who I thought anyway! It was someone totally different I was embarrassed to run into! Silly me!
When we conferenced in the morning Brit and I just looked at eachother and started laughing.
Day 3 of vice vacation, successful :)