Purple Rain
If last weekend had a theme color, it would be violet. Friday night was that of my birthday party. My 22nd birthday proper had been Wednesday, which was a pretty cool day. Mom came to Murray; we ate at Mugsy's with Uncle Paul and my cousin Laura. Afterwards I went to Vitello's with the posse , and joined forces with my birthday-mate Kathryn Stone. That place gets as packed as a Chinese dance party. Things generally went well that day. Events of Friday night were somewhat more open to interpretation. :-P
Friday, after the obligatory posse outing, I went over to Reese and Jason's, the host-place. A few people I had purposefully not invited showed up anyway, but I don't think there was any of the expected havoc. One person I did invite was the legendary Big Al Mason, who made his indelible mark on the gathering. After I received my "birthday song" with Dan Cole pig-squeal screaming, Al went down hard and fast due to sucking back some Mad Dog 20/20. Before he went catatonic he did manage to stand up and start to sing me another birthday song...although he accidentally sang the Star-Spangled Banner instead.
Meanwhile, we had a pretty good crowd show up, and partook in such activities as mattress surfing down the stairs. Getting Al outside over the mattress was quite the task, as was putting him in his car's back seat. From that vantage, Mr Mason puked up what has become known as Lake Al. Since Reese's driveway is on an incline, the voluminous puddle was about 15 or 20 feet long. But that was not the end. Thinking that there was no way anything was left inside of Big Al, I helped him stagger back inside. He promptly collapsed in the bathroom and started to puke again. At first he was on target, but by the end of it all, his Mad Dog-addled purple vomit was all over half the floor.
Al's barely-coherent request at that time was to go home, but this didn't seem wise. I put him in my passenger seat and drove him to my place amidst a cadence of "Help me"s. We stood by my toilet for a while without result, but as soon as I put him on my couch, he puked for a third time. Luckily, none of the stuff got on any of my possessions. Proving unable to wipe the fluid off of himself, Al was then subjected to a vacuuming. I do believe that was a first for both of us.
Ed and Cameron walked in on this madness, which I have to say was a little awkward. Most everyone had left the party back at Reese's by this point, and after Al fell asleep we three went to Gina's (second) birthday party. Some of the survivors of my shindig were there, and I was having a pretty good time up until I managed to sprain an ankle dancing with Maxine. Square-toed shoes, alcohol, and heel clicks don't mix. My ankle is still pretty badly sprained, complete with a purple bruise and me feeling like a scallywag. That's made my classroom observations great fun, lemme tell ya.
Going to sleep that night did not end the saga. I was awakened after three hours of sleep by a bewildered Al Mason. We searched my place for his keys, because I remembered taking them at some point. Not finding them, we went back to Reese's and, amidst the pre-noon chaos, found nothing. Al graciously bought me breakfast at Hih Burger, and we went back to Reese's for one last shot...at this point it looked as though we'd have to drive to Paducah and back to get his spare keys. When we got to Reese's, Al's car had been moved, sloppily. Maybe one wheel was on the grass, with the others on the road. Also, the keys were magically within. Later it would be revealed that this was Reese's doing - but Reese hadn't had it easy, because he'd had to push the thing. I had to borrow Nate's jumper cables and jump the car, finally ending the odyssey.
And that, ladies and gents, was last weekend. This one has already had an adventure or two, but I think I've prattled for long enough...
-Aaron
"Okay Al, this is going to be a little weird...but I'm going to vacuum you."
-Aaron Carpenter
Friday, after the obligatory posse outing, I went over to Reese and Jason's, the host-place. A few people I had purposefully not invited showed up anyway, but I don't think there was any of the expected havoc. One person I did invite was the legendary Big Al Mason, who made his indelible mark on the gathering. After I received my "birthday song" with Dan Cole pig-squeal screaming, Al went down hard and fast due to sucking back some Mad Dog 20/20. Before he went catatonic he did manage to stand up and start to sing me another birthday song...although he accidentally sang the Star-Spangled Banner instead.
Meanwhile, we had a pretty good crowd show up, and partook in such activities as mattress surfing down the stairs. Getting Al outside over the mattress was quite the task, as was putting him in his car's back seat. From that vantage, Mr Mason puked up what has become known as Lake Al. Since Reese's driveway is on an incline, the voluminous puddle was about 15 or 20 feet long. But that was not the end. Thinking that there was no way anything was left inside of Big Al, I helped him stagger back inside. He promptly collapsed in the bathroom and started to puke again. At first he was on target, but by the end of it all, his Mad Dog-addled purple vomit was all over half the floor.
Al's barely-coherent request at that time was to go home, but this didn't seem wise. I put him in my passenger seat and drove him to my place amidst a cadence of "Help me"s. We stood by my toilet for a while without result, but as soon as I put him on my couch, he puked for a third time. Luckily, none of the stuff got on any of my possessions. Proving unable to wipe the fluid off of himself, Al was then subjected to a vacuuming. I do believe that was a first for both of us.
Ed and Cameron walked in on this madness, which I have to say was a little awkward. Most everyone had left the party back at Reese's by this point, and after Al fell asleep we three went to Gina's (second) birthday party. Some of the survivors of my shindig were there, and I was having a pretty good time up until I managed to sprain an ankle dancing with Maxine. Square-toed shoes, alcohol, and heel clicks don't mix. My ankle is still pretty badly sprained, complete with a purple bruise and me feeling like a scallywag. That's made my classroom observations great fun, lemme tell ya.
Going to sleep that night did not end the saga. I was awakened after three hours of sleep by a bewildered Al Mason. We searched my place for his keys, because I remembered taking them at some point. Not finding them, we went back to Reese's and, amidst the pre-noon chaos, found nothing. Al graciously bought me breakfast at Hih Burger, and we went back to Reese's for one last shot...at this point it looked as though we'd have to drive to Paducah and back to get his spare keys. When we got to Reese's, Al's car had been moved, sloppily. Maybe one wheel was on the grass, with the others on the road. Also, the keys were magically within. Later it would be revealed that this was Reese's doing - but Reese hadn't had it easy, because he'd had to push the thing. I had to borrow Nate's jumper cables and jump the car, finally ending the odyssey.
And that, ladies and gents, was last weekend. This one has already had an adventure or two, but I think I've prattled for long enough...
-Aaron
"Okay Al, this is going to be a little weird...but I'm going to vacuum you."
-Aaron Carpenter