Monica: I am sure I will be fine. I will just be drunk for four days. How else do you do a wedding in Cheyenne, Wyoming?
Me: Maybe you should get some pills. Preferably some ‘ludes. Or a sack of goofballs. Or some Black Beauties…
Monica: Yeah, I have not decided which drug to risk the Interstate Commerce With Intent to Sell ticket for. Oxycontin?
Me: Sprinkle in some morphine. Because nothing says Wyoming like painkillers.
Monica: When livestock outnumber people 10-1 do as the locals do.
Me: Load up on mind-numbing medication and wait it out?
Friday. Work late to complete a corporate Flash presentation that nobody will pay attention to. After work, I play in a coed softball game where my team wins 26-4 and the opposing team’s third baseman catches a ground ball with her face and breaks her nose. Immediately following the game a torrential downpour ensues and I sprint to my car leaving my glove on the field. I roll to Tyler’s house and play College Football with the Slushy Gutter Crew. At one point in the evening Tyler pours me either a glass of bourbon, scotch, or whiskey. I drink it and proceed to kick his ass with Virginia Tech 30-14. On the way home I realize that I left my mitt on the softball field.
Saturday. I attend my company picnic and run the corporate Flash presentation I put in long hours over. Surprisingly, people pay attention, laugh and tell me good job. After the presentation the picnic continues at a nearby park with a luau theme and a pig roasting. I eat heaping platefuls of swine and mingle with coworkers. Jake, Gay Joe and I make fun of some pasty kid trying to play football. We call him “Mary” and giggle like the dickheads we are. Joe tells us about his homosexual encounters the previous evening. Hula dancers many years past their prime shake their asses for our amusement. I volunteer to dance with them, throwing my inhibitions into the wind like Kevin Bacon in Footloose. I perform a dance with pom-poms and hip gyrations. I win the grand prize in the company raffle (a $200 gift certificate to the Flagstaff House). After the picnic, I attend a lesbian wedding with Monica, Kaye, Aaron, Nels and Kerry. We quickly become the obnoxious drunk table at the reception. A plant is passed around and the recipient of said plant gives a toast. A diverse blend of people wishes the couple well including a militant lesbian with an attitude problem and a sexual predator with disheveled hair holding a kid that liked to hit people in the face. I share my toast with the happy couple, lifting my glass and saying, “Here’s to eating pussy.” They laugh hysterically. I love the lesbians and wish them the best. We roll to Monica’s crib for a nightcap. I discover Kaye does not like playing drinking games with me. Monica informs me she picked up my softball glove up after our game. This makes me happy.
Sunday. I wake up at noon with a screaming hangover. I pour a glass of water and take ibuprofen. I watch Panic Room on digital cable. I drink a glass of water. I make a trip to Home Depot to buy some sandpaper and steel wool. I drink a glass of water. I strip paint for four hours. I drink three glasses of water. My Mom calls and invites me to dinner. I drink a glass of water. I drive to my parents house and eat spaghetti and garlic bread for dinner. We discuss home improvement. I go home to play a game of College Football. Colorado State beats Wyoming 21-3. Nels picks me up for our hockey game. I tally a hat trick and an assist. I drink seven glasses of water. Mark throws a shoe at Nels’s face. I come home and take a shower. I go to sleep. If anyone asks me what I did this weekend, I will say, “Nothing.”
Monica: God do I hate Creed. “Arms Wide Open” my ass. I would like to jam something down Scott Stapp’s wide open throat.
Me: Ha! Excellent. Take your I Love My Baby/I Am Down With The Lord rock somewhere else, Scott. Like the bottom of the ocean.
Me: Just a poor man’s Stryper if you ask me.
Me: Well played.
Some people like shooting the smack. Others cannot put down the booze. This woman is addicted to babies. After fifteen children, she plans on trying for more. Her uterus has seen more action than Vietnam during the Tet Offensive. Quoth Monica, “Her cervix is probably down to her ankles by now.”