I spent last night with four co-workers, celebrating Miss CD's 26th birthday.. perhaps the best way to put it is that what I can remember is extremely memorable...
at one point, the five of us girls are dancing, having drunk several pitchers of sangria and two rounds of shots, including one of redheaded sluts, which I do recommend, though not as highly as the buttery nipple. men coming into our dancing circle, and Miss CD amusing herself by grabbing the arm of one of the men and one of the women and forcing them together in the middle... and even better if she could arrange to put the hand of one of the women in the genital region of one of the men, with an innocent "who can stay mad at the Drunk Birthday Girl?" kind of a smile... this leads to several misunderstandings.. and for a tall, skinny white girl, she sure has a tendency to "back that thing up" into random bystanders.
at one point, Miss CD actually falls down on the dance floor, lying there comfortably for a moment before allowing me to help her up. by this time, we've attracted a good number of men watching us for entertainment.. one tells me, "your friend is going to pass out any minute now." "oh no," I assure him. "she has great endurance."
later, walking drunkenly down the street at 1:30am, two of us endeavoring to keep Miss CD in a mostly-upright, forward-moving position... she stops two men leaning against a building, smoking a cigarette.. "cigarettes cause cancer!" she tells them, shoving one in the chest none too gently. "thanks for the public service announcement!" his friend jovially calls after us.
I am wearing an eye-catching long white jacket, in contrast to the more traditional style for women of not wearing any jacket to go out at night no matter how cold it is, and at one point a middle-aged African-American man walking past us in the street holds up his hand looking absolutely thrilled to see me, saying, "let's have a high-five for the motherfuckin white jacket!!" I comply.
at another point, we stagger past a club with a lot of people standing outside, and Miss CD inadvertently steps on a very large African-American man with her high-heeled shoe. he starts muttering, "what the fuck is up with that, stepping all over me and shit?" Miss CD turns around, earnestly grasps his forearm, looks him in the eye and says, "look, I'm sorry, ok? I really didn't mean to do it." "yeah," I pipe up, "she is just totally wasted and no longer has much control over her body, that's all!" he nods sullenly as we turn and step all over an even more annoyed petite African-American woman. I breathe a sigh of relief once we finally make it through the crowd. I'd begun to imagine the story I would have to tell my grandkids, "... and that's the time that my friend Miss CD started a race riot downtown."
a group of men stops us, the alpha guy looking like Barney from that How I Met Your Mother show. he begins, "I have a question, for five hot chicks such as yourselves." at that moment, Miss CD whirls around, clutches his sport jacket and begins choking and gasping for air. she seems to desperately be trying to cough up a hairball or vomit.. we thump her on the back to no avail. this goes on for at least a minute before she releases him and staggers away unsteadily. he clears his throat. "okay, I have a question for you four hot chicks," we hear him say behind us. we're already off, keeping Miss CD from inadvertently giving her id away to a homeless person as she flashes it proudly, declaring, "look! look! I am of age!!"
at one point, the five of us girls are dancing, having drunk several pitchers of sangria and two rounds of shots, including one of redheaded sluts, which I do recommend, though not as highly as the buttery nipple. men coming into our dancing circle, and Miss CD amusing herself by grabbing the arm of one of the men and one of the women and forcing them together in the middle... and even better if she could arrange to put the hand of one of the women in the genital region of one of the men, with an innocent "who can stay mad at the Drunk Birthday Girl?" kind of a smile... this leads to several misunderstandings.. and for a tall, skinny white girl, she sure has a tendency to "back that thing up" into random bystanders.
at one point, Miss CD actually falls down on the dance floor, lying there comfortably for a moment before allowing me to help her up. by this time, we've attracted a good number of men watching us for entertainment.. one tells me, "your friend is going to pass out any minute now." "oh no," I assure him. "she has great endurance."
later, walking drunkenly down the street at 1:30am, two of us endeavoring to keep Miss CD in a mostly-upright, forward-moving position... she stops two men leaning against a building, smoking a cigarette.. "cigarettes cause cancer!" she tells them, shoving one in the chest none too gently. "thanks for the public service announcement!" his friend jovially calls after us.
I am wearing an eye-catching long white jacket, in contrast to the more traditional style for women of not wearing any jacket to go out at night no matter how cold it is, and at one point a middle-aged African-American man walking past us in the street holds up his hand looking absolutely thrilled to see me, saying, "let's have a high-five for the motherfuckin white jacket!!" I comply.
at another point, we stagger past a club with a lot of people standing outside, and Miss CD inadvertently steps on a very large African-American man with her high-heeled shoe. he starts muttering, "what the fuck is up with that, stepping all over me and shit?" Miss CD turns around, earnestly grasps his forearm, looks him in the eye and says, "look, I'm sorry, ok? I really didn't mean to do it." "yeah," I pipe up, "she is just totally wasted and no longer has much control over her body, that's all!" he nods sullenly as we turn and step all over an even more annoyed petite African-American woman. I breathe a sigh of relief once we finally make it through the crowd. I'd begun to imagine the story I would have to tell my grandkids, "... and that's the time that my friend Miss CD started a race riot downtown."
a group of men stops us, the alpha guy looking like Barney from that How I Met Your Mother show. he begins, "I have a question, for five hot chicks such as yourselves." at that moment, Miss CD whirls around, clutches his sport jacket and begins choking and gasping for air. she seems to desperately be trying to cough up a hairball or vomit.. we thump her on the back to no avail. this goes on for at least a minute before she releases him and staggers away unsteadily. he clears his throat. "okay, I have a question for you four hot chicks," we hear him say behind us. we're already off, keeping Miss CD from inadvertently giving her id away to a homeless person as she flashes it proudly, declaring, "look! look! I am of age!!"
posted by la primera at 5:06 PM
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