Lollercoaster
This weekend was. Odd.
Friday night = hilarious. Finn, Cassie, Maeg, and I checked out the 'Dyke March' After Party. My first inclination was to scream 'HELL NO' and slit my wrists with a piece of plastic from a broken tail-light as soon as I found out it was going to be at the Holiday Inn in Somerville, but we decided to give it a shot anyway.
Upon entering, it became extremely clear that we were not at a party, but rather a Gay Prom complete with tables covered in cloth and centerpieces made of koozies and silk flowers. I thought I heard someone referring to the over-sized graham cracker precariously positioned upon the dull carpeting as the 'dance floor'. There were two bars -- each four-feet in width and made of plastic and faux-leather foam. Behind them stood tacky hotel-staff (fully equipped with the 'token' heavy-set woman, dirty-blond bun and all!). Drinks were ridiculously over-priced @ $7.50 for a drop of Malibu in a plastic cup that you would find at a road-side lemonade stand. It was a miracle that Maeg and I were able to get drunk on our $100. Even though it meant zero dollars toward a cab ride home.
In true prom fashion, we chilled in the corner and dined on cafeteria de Mexicana. If it wasn't for the Mime that befriended Finn, we would have never been able to catch the lone waitress who was obviously avoiding the predominantly forty-something crowd like it was her middle name. And to think, if the universe shifted three millimeters to the left, I would have never felt like I was going to hurl after consuming 3.5 nachos covered in Grade D meat.
We eventually made our way to the dance floor. Shimmied a bit. And left.
I stole a Pride sign on my way out. And I was groped by a wandering Mexican on shrooms while waiting for our cab. He crossed Washington Street all by his big-man self just to taste the ladies. How charming! We eventually arrived home safely. And wasted. Of course, there was only one thing to do at 2am on a Friday evening.
Go to the park.
And leave almost immediately due to Mr. Shady Man in Sweat-shorts.
I saw him walking toward us, but he quickly receded once he spotted Maeg doing somersaults and twirling on a long metal bar. Our inability to think clearly was apparent. It was 2:30am. In Newton. He probably was coming to offer us freshly baked cookies. Or a protein smoothie.
Instead, we tried ran home like little bitches. Except for Finn. Who was laying comatose wrapped in a Hello Kitty blanket in a pile of bark dust. I was about to leave her for dead until Maeg somehow convinced her that being raped in a park wasn't the best way to end the evening. I guess we'll never know if she was right about that assumption.
Given the circumstances of the night, the odds were defied. I ended up having a shit load of fun. And even won a $100 Amazon Gift card at the Lesbo Raffle.
However, Saturday? Was a nightmare.
More on that later.
Friday night = hilarious. Finn, Cassie, Maeg, and I checked out the 'Dyke March' After Party. My first inclination was to scream 'HELL NO' and slit my wrists with a piece of plastic from a broken tail-light as soon as I found out it was going to be at the Holiday Inn in Somerville, but we decided to give it a shot anyway.
Upon entering, it became extremely clear that we were not at a party, but rather a Gay Prom complete with tables covered in cloth and centerpieces made of koozies and silk flowers. I thought I heard someone referring to the over-sized graham cracker precariously positioned upon the dull carpeting as the 'dance floor'. There were two bars -- each four-feet in width and made of plastic and faux-leather foam. Behind them stood tacky hotel-staff (fully equipped with the 'token' heavy-set woman, dirty-blond bun and all!). Drinks were ridiculously over-priced @ $7.50 for a drop of Malibu in a plastic cup that you would find at a road-side lemonade stand. It was a miracle that Maeg and I were able to get drunk on our $100. Even though it meant zero dollars toward a cab ride home.
In true prom fashion, we chilled in the corner and dined on cafeteria de Mexicana. If it wasn't for the Mime that befriended Finn, we would have never been able to catch the lone waitress who was obviously avoiding the predominantly forty-something crowd like it was her middle name. And to think, if the universe shifted three millimeters to the left, I would have never felt like I was going to hurl after consuming 3.5 nachos covered in Grade D meat.
We eventually made our way to the dance floor. Shimmied a bit. And left.
I stole a Pride sign on my way out. And I was groped by a wandering Mexican on shrooms while waiting for our cab. He crossed Washington Street all by his big-man self just to taste the ladies. How charming! We eventually arrived home safely. And wasted. Of course, there was only one thing to do at 2am on a Friday evening.
Go to the park.
And leave almost immediately due to Mr. Shady Man in Sweat-shorts.
I saw him walking toward us, but he quickly receded once he spotted Maeg doing somersaults and twirling on a long metal bar. Our inability to think clearly was apparent. It was 2:30am. In Newton. He probably was coming to offer us freshly baked cookies. Or a protein smoothie.
Instead, we tried ran home like little bitches. Except for Finn. Who was laying comatose wrapped in a Hello Kitty blanket in a pile of bark dust. I was about to leave her for dead until Maeg somehow convinced her that being raped in a park wasn't the best way to end the evening. I guess we'll never know if she was right about that assumption.
Given the circumstances of the night, the odds were defied. I ended up having a shit load of fun. And even won a $100 Amazon Gift card at the Lesbo Raffle.
However, Saturday? Was a nightmare.
More on that later.