R's bday

This weekend was a long one. Which is kind of funny since last weekend was an actual long, 3 day weekend for me and I had a lot more going on during this normal, 2 day weekend.
Friday night was R's b-day party. Like years past, laser tag was the first thing on the agenda for the night. Well, after the pre game party at the house that is. Gotta be ready for laser war ya know? I had a couple of errands to run after work before I could make it over to their house, and just like years past, I missed the god damn laser tag adventure. Damn it. By the time I was able to meet up with them, they had moved to a bar in Gresham. I really hate being late, and I really hate that I missed laser tag...But I have the best friends ever so they didn't even care. Of course, that could have something to do with the drinking. Possibly.
As soon as I sat down, R made me look at the couple at a nearby table and told me that they had been sitting in the same position forever. I looked, and they were sitting on the same side of the table, facing each other, holding each others hands between them and staring at each other intently while talking. R told me there was a point where they were just staring into each others eyes for 5 minutes. They really just sat there staring at each other. Not eating, or drinking, or moving. Just staring at each other. Ok then...
Once I realized the waiter wasn't going to pay any attention to the latecomer (me), I decided to run outside to move my car. I wasn't totally sure where the bar was when I was driving there, so when I found it I parked...before I saw the place had it's own parking lot. A came with me so I wouldn't have to suffer the cold alone. And probably to get away from all the drunk man love that was starting to happen. She was the designated driver and therefore sober. Hard to handle emotional men when you're not drunk I guess.
Why is it, when big burly men drink they turn into the most emotional babies on the planet? What's that about?
When we walked back to the table I found my seat taken. I'd been booted! Not really. Once I came back in the guy went and grabbed himself a chair and everyone shifted to make room. The couple over there was still in love stare mode. Until the waiter bumped into them breaking their concentration. In the waiters defense, he wouldn't have ran into them if they were paying attention to their surroundings and maybe moved out of the only walk way right behind them. They were laughing and so was our whole table, since everyone had been watching them have a stare down for so long. Now that the curse was broken, they were able to get up and play a game of pool.
M was definitely a bit beyond tipsy and kept yelling about the pirate in the bar (a man with an eye patch) and the big crack (a girl with unfortunately short waisted pants sitting on a stool nearby). And then she started throwing ice. It started with one cube at a time. Trying to make it into drinks. As she drank more...She started throwing more ice. Until finally she reached into the glass and grabbed an entire handful to throw. Then her man took the glass away. And cleared the table of everything within her reach. She was smiling like a child that knew she was in trouble but was looking for more. I was scared.
A and I shared some fries (YUM! I forgot how much I love fries) while we pondered how close one man's face can get to anothers before the drunk wears off enough for them to see how close they actually are. We could tell there was intense conversation happening. I definitely heard something like "You're my brother man. Even if we're not, like, brothers." I think I saw some watery eyes....and then drunk girl came over. "Fries are SO GOOD!" she told us as she shoved a couple fries in her mouth. Yes, yes they are drunk girl.
After R finally caught up on all the drinks friends had bought for him, we were all ready to head back to the house. Or so we thought. I locked my keys in my car. I moved my car one freakin block, and locked my keys in the damn thing. R and A both try their own car keys in my door, just in case. Hey, we both have Toyottas. It coulda worked. Maybe... I remember my spare car key at the house and we make a plan to drive the birthday boy back home so he can hang out with his friends while A drives me to my house to get my spare car key. We wait for the guys that are supposed to be riding with us, but find out they've decided to walk back to the house. In the freezing weather. Whatever guys.
5 minutes into the car ride I realize I can't go home for my spare key. My house key is on the same key ring that is locked in my car. Damn! Why did that fact evade me until now? So, we drive R back to the house and then A drives me back to the bar while I call AAA to come unlock my car for me. I don't know why I waited so long to get AAA but it is by far one of the best decisions I've made as an adult. I lock my keys in my car more often than I'd like to admit. And there were those times when I needed help with a flat tire... Oh AAA, how I love thee.
They quoted me a 20 to 30 minute wait time, but as usual with my beloved AAA, they were there in no time and in seconds my car was unlocked. A says we should get me one of those door unlocker things. I have one. In my house. Lotta good that does me when all my keys are in the car. I just need to turn my brain on more often I guess.
A and I head back to the house and arrive back just in time for the pizza to be delivered. Sweet delicious pizza. I wasn't really excited about the pizza though...I was excited about the bbq wings I had R order for me. Don't worry, I didn't make him pay. It is his birthday party after all. He gave me the entire box of wings and only took one for himself. I am ok with that. I have one smallish slice of pepperoni and pineapple pizza and use my wing box as my plate. And then I'm stuck in my chair until I'm done eating. Bbq wings are messy. And so deliciously amazing. I couldn't eat them all. I tried. I really did. R helped me and took a second one. After half an hour I gave up. I only had one more wing to go. But I don't want to make myself sick. Even if sick only means an overfull tummy.
Somehow we get to talking about the world record for how many yoga balls a person has rolled across on their stomach (thank you Tosh.0) and that's when A realizes we can play that game right now! She grabs her yoga ball and rolls down the hallway. It looks too fun. I must try. I shrug off my jacket and do a little stretch action. Don't wanna hurt myself ya know? A slides back down towards us and I am so ready for my turn. I grab the ball and roll down the hall. FUN! Do it again. MORE FUN! This is a good game. A sits on the ball and then falls off the ball. That's the thing with using a ball as a chair. There's no back to stop you from leaning too far.
Once she is recovered, she starts scrolling through the iPod looking for some good party music. Instead she puts on some nice booty jams. Which inspires now drunker girl to dance. Alone. In the living room. She tries to get us to dance with her but we're having enough fun watching her. Drunk girl runs into the kitchen to try and dance with the boys. Almost immediately she is back in the living room and basically gives all of us girls a private dance. All the boys are in the kitchen, and drunk girl is in the loving room slow grinding with herself and doing some fancy hip work. Her husband comes around the corner and just watches for a minute. Then he starts saying encouraging things to her like "Nice...nice" and "What the heck are you doing?!" She retaliates by grinding all over him and then she says "Whatever!" and keeps dancing alone. Can't get mad at a girl for having fun by herself right? She keeps dancing while her husband goes back into the kitchen. "Whatever! Imma be a teacher!" Looks like a kick ass teacher to me.
Then I notice something wet on my arm. What is that? OMG! RUGBURN! How the hell did I not notice that until just now? My right arm is 1/4 rugburn. And it's oozing. That is just disgusting. I show A and she laughs at me for taking so long to notice.  There are carpet fibers in my arm ooze. I say it's sticky and R's reaction is "Well don't sticky it to any-a mah shit." Alright R, but only because it's your birthday.