Uh-oh Toto, I have a feeling we are not in Kansas anymore. So Mav and I got lost on the way down to the beach two weekends ago. We missed a left turn and it pulled the rug out from under the Norm that we are accustomed to. Should be same bat channel, same bat time. But the time - she was long - and the channel was like the Sci-Fi channel or something. Seriously, what twilight zone did we enter? And when did the road become one lane for both directions of traffic and isn't the sky rather dark and is that a UFO I spot and is a hunchback inbred going to jump out from those trees - with a chainsaw? I think it may have had something to do with not picking up our feet at that first railroad track. One superstition wrecked our Chi and became our Black Cloud. Or the fact that Mav was already experiencing Upside-Down Mav World - Bizarro Mav World - a la a Seinfeld episode. Or the simple fact that we were couped up in a car for 5 hours during prime happy hour time. No drink at 5? What do you mean drink at 9? We were thirsty, thus delirious? The car was out of gas. And so was Boa and Mav. Boa may have got cranky because she doesn't do car trips over 3 hours. She was maxed out. But had we not got lost we could not have encountered this:
...A cow busting loose from his confines. Seriously, have you ever even seen cows move? Walk? Trot? Aren't they usually just hanging out in the pasture. Abiding time as cows do. But then you remember that Far Side cartoon where, in the first cel, the cows are shooting the shit, dancing, whatever and then one yells out "Car!" and they resume their human expectation of being all lazy and immobile. Well, I'm pretty sure this cow didn't get the warning, probably because where we were, nobody is expected. A car probably hadn't been on that road since 1972. So this cow made his way to the side of the road and the barbed wire fence that was his Prison, and was eating his way through the fence. Bustin' loose! The other cows were just watching him, like, "That Fred, he is at it again." Fred is like, "I'm busting out this time, milkers! I can just smell the taste of freedom. I will run wild. I will not milk for free anymore. And I am going to eat the first human I find. Mav and Boa - delish." So Mav and Boa run for Route One....so the speeding....
...Getting pulled over by a cop and subsequently getting help to find our way out of the cornfield! Mav has like 50 outstanding tickets because she has the Heavy Foot. And she likes Fast Cars. And she is used to her Speed Mobile. However, she was driving my more sensible Soccor Mom car that wins all the safety tests. And should not be pushed to the Speeding Limits. But Mav put the pedal to the medal and pushed that little Swede over the speed limit. Very Nice Officer sees a Police Chase potential! In the cornfield, except the Little Car That Could pulls over in some pasture to be all woe-is-me that Boa is good at and Mav can NOT get another ticket for fear of revoking her license.
Very Nice Officer to Mav: "Did you know you were going 44 in a 35?"
Boa, fidgeting with the map she fished from her glove compartment in an attempt to show him that we, City Girls, were L-O-S-T: "Help, Very Nice Officer!"
VNO: "Ah, now, where you girls going?"
Mav: Quiet for a change. Scared shitless.
Boa: "We are not party girls - we are kicking it back in Rehobeth! In a house and not on the front stoop and no bars! We brought pajamas and will not sleep in our clothes. We won't kiss boys."
VNO: Smiled and winked and gave Mav a warning and directions and sent us on our way.
...The Delaware State Fair in some random cornfield town. Shouldn't a state fair be in one of the more "metropolitan" cities Delaware has to offer, like say, Wilmington or Dover - or Rehobeth, even? We saw all the signs pointing us in the direction - right at first cornfield, left at second cornfield, get a ride on the cow that is wandering the streets, buy some fruit from a front stoop - but we never saw said fair. Don't they have like ferris wheels at State Fairs? And would their be traffic to the State Fair? Wouldn't we have seen something - anything - indicating a State Fair was taking place? Where are the people?
Boa: "Where is this state fair? They sure have a lot of signs for it. Again we haven't seen a person in hours, besides that Very Nice Officer."
Mav: "It's probaby in someone's house."
Boa: "Where do they put the ferris wheel? Or are they just bobbing for apples in the bathtub?"
Mav: "And stair diving!"
Boa and Mav: "Now I want to go!"
Seriously, had we found the State Fair, we would have checked it out just to say....you know, for purposes of the blog. And we were hungry so an apple sounded rather good right then. Alas, no fair was ever found.
Our beach house neighborhood is becoming a strip mall. In recent weeks we had the Safeway move in next door. [Love Safeway! - Mav, Boa, Hollywood]. Well, two weeks ago, The Gap moved in! We have discovered you meet all your neighbors by sittiing on your front stoop. And not on the back deck where - if you are lucky - you get a peak of Fu the dog. So one guy chats us up and we learn that he has an assortment of Top Gun t-shirts. The House is quite happy about this as we are the Top Gun house. So he offers the lovely Cougar her very own t-shirt. And she can pick. He thinks he has just her size. So you can see where this inevitably goes.
Oh goody, the Gap has moved in now!
And then this past weekend as we were sitting on our front stoop - drinking the tequila - we encountered an airport as a guy was wrapping up a day of windsurfing and in his attempt to "carry" his gear back to his place, he placed the sail across his back in airplane fashion. He was running with these wings projecting out either side of him to keep his balance in the wind and I swear to god it looked like he was ready to take off.
And now there is an airport in the neighborhood.
Is the neighborhood on an upswing? What will bring the neighhborhoood down? Not the airport noise. Certainly not the 2 for 1 sale at the Gap.
Crazy Drunk Jealous Bitches who call 911?
Which leads me to starring in our very own episode of COPS! Seriously, we could have sworn the cameras were rolling because the Innocent became the Bizarre. Since the rain was going to be around all weekend, The Gap challenged our "Inn" to a game of Flip The Cup - and Mav is on the Pro-circuit apparently. Late Friday - 1 AM - we go a-knockin' on their door only they aren't home yet. So we sit on their front stoop to wait. Only some Surly Drunk Bitch comes home. We hadn't met this particular sales person yet. We learn she is the bitter peon who has to fold the khakis for minimum wage. So the snotty attitude.
Surly Drunk Bitch: Sneering. "Who are you guys?"
Mav, Boa, and Cougar: "We are Mav, Boa, and Cougar. We live two doors down. Hi neighbor!"
SDB: Sneering. "What are you doing here?"
MB&C: "We are waiting for your house to play Flip the Cup."
SDB: "Not with the guys in this house. Hiss. "
MB&C: "Um, actually, yes we are."
SDB: "Why don't you go to your own front stoop."
MB&C: "Yeah, we'll just wait here."
Because what we heard was "You are pretty. I got in a big fight with my boyfriend over some girl he may or may not have been flirting with and now I don't want him talking to another girl as long as we both shall live. I spew jealousy venom. Besides I am crazy and an angry drunk right now and you are too cute to make me look even worse that I do right now. Shoo girls shoo."
Mav likes a challenge. And Boa doesn't like to be told what to do. And if Goose was there, Goose would have stepped on her. And then stepped on her again.Surly Drunk Bitch goes inside and not five minutes later a big SUV tinted-window cop car peals into the drive way - the SWAT team? - and apparently they called for back up because a couple cops on bikes come wheeling in skidding to a stop too. See, apparently the Surly Drunk Bitch felt threatened and called 911 and let on that the situation was hard-to-handle. I think the COPS were a little disappointed to see us harmless and innocent sorts just sitting on the front stoop. They were hoping for Action of the let-me-pull-out-my-billy-stick-and-put-a'scarin'-in-some-young-drunk-punks. The cameraman had to shut off the film because this was not going to make primetime and they may have been a little disappointed to miss yet another chance at the tv. They essentially laughed about it. Now the cops knew the bitch was Crazy too. So the cops just told us to go on over to our own front stoop and we were happy to oblige. Only. The beers we were trying to conceal because we weren't entirely knowledgeable on the open container laws. Cougar and Boa listen and exit with beers. Mav does not. She stays behind. Inner panic.
Cops to Mav: "Um. you aren't leaving."
Mav: "Uh, Right."
In the end, open containers are allowed because we are on private property, so the drinking on the front stoop resumes - with the COPS [Not really - Those Reality Police who make my story so much more boring.] And the guys from The Gap show up and party with us the rest of the night. Boa seriously thought about flirting Big Time with the Boyfriend of Crazy Drunk Bitch to piss her off even more. But just him hanging out with us and her being all dramatic with the "I'm driving home now. At 2 AM" act was HILARIOUS enough. Him rolling his eyes. So score one for the harmless girls - who were not even remotely interested in any of the guys in Her House - and zero for the Bitch who wants to waste law enforcement's time. The bitch who never apologized when we are all for forgive-and-forget-over-a-night-of-drinking. She had a couple opportunities to extend her hand. Hell, I would have promoted her from Khaki Folder to Merchandise Manager. So, bitch.
Thumbing it is the new pasttime when the clouds come into town. After a day of shopping, Mav thought it would be fun to hitchhike home (she likes a challenge) and frankly, Boa and Mav were not having any of the Jolly Trolley. [Honey, don't take public transportation. That trolley is just a truck with a trailer hitched to it. - Goose.] So Mav pokes her thumb out in Skinny Legs fashion. At first, people waved at us. "Crazy girls." Like we weren't serious. Some lady pulled over with a wagon full of kids. Clearly, she had no room. In the end, we got picked up by some old man who, you could tell, spent years and years in the sun and had that worn leather couch look. (Kind of like how Mav, Goose, and Boa will look in the end of Summer '05.) So he has an old run-down jeep with a burn-out back. We drove all the way back to our neighborhood with our legs dangling from the back. In case, we had to jump out when he made a wrong turn and wanted to chop us into little pieces. In the end, friendly man.
Old Kind Man: "I was poor when I was little and thumbing it was the only way I could get around. So I appreciate you girls thumbing it. You just don't see that anymore."
Mav and Boa: Hiding our South Moon under purchases. "Poor, yes."
He didn't need to know that we were thumbing it because (a) we were avoiding the Jolly Trolley, (b) we were too lazy to walk the mile home, and (c) we did it for kicks.
The introduction of Charley. The naming it continues. When Goose brings down her very beautiful friend, sporting the ever-appropriate shirt with words declaring "Ditch Him" - you have to name her Charley in keeping with the Top Gun theme. Because she is Charley. Charley is really funny. Any music that is not not hip hop is essentially punk rock to her.
Charley: "This Miller Lite is making me listen to Punk Rock."
When I think it was Free Bird.
Boa loves, loves, loves Charley because she hears the bagpipes!
What doesn't belong together? Rubber chickens and Bare Asses don't. A couple guys in the house brought down their college friends and so 5 guys together reliving the chemistry of College Antics set out to relive those college antics, chemistry or not. Um. Rubber chickens were involved. A lot.
Bar: Seeing the straps around his shoulder. "You can't bring a back pack in here".
Chicken Man: "Oh that is not a backpack. It's a holster for my chickens. See."
Bar: "Uh. I guess there is no rule on holsters and rubber chickens."
Goose on phone: "How are Sundown's and Iceman's friends?"
Boa: "One guy carries rubber chickens in a holster."
Boa: "One guy carries rubber chickens in a holster."
Boa: "One guy carries rubber chickens in a holster."
And so this "guest" brought his rubber chickens to the bars. They flew across the dance floor. They drank from the beer bottle. They nestled in his holster. And then late at night, in the safety of the house, when the holster comes off, I guess the chickens get rowdy from the drinking and the friends from college engaged in some late-night ass slapping. Bare ass mind you. With the chickens. Chicken to ass. Wish I could say this wasn't happening.
Boa, Goose, and Charley minding our own business downstairs when we hear a succession of Whack-laughter-Whack-laughter-banging-screaming-whacking, etc. Charley goes to investigate.
Charley: Oh my gosh, they are slapping each other's asses with the chicken.
Boa, Charley, and Goose peaking around the stairs: speechless in the Absurdity that it most certainly was.
Male bonding is not always such a good thing to witness.
Roll the cameras for Mav's hookup with Dirk-Could-Be-Biggler. So Mav found herself party to another Seinfeld episode earlier in the week when her boyfriend tries to break up with her.
Boyfriend: After not talking for a week. "Let's meet for drinks."
Mav: "Why don't you come over and I will cook dinner."
Boyfriend: "No. Let's meet for drinks."
Boyfriend: "Why so many questions?"
Mav: "My house?"
And so on and so on.
Mav to Goose and Boa: "What does this mean?"
Goose and Boa: "He's trying to break up with you."
Mav: "Oh no, he doesn't."
So they haven't talked since. Thus she decided she could Hook Up this weekend. She found her target. They danced all night on the dance floor, came back to the house, dripping wet with Sweat. He takes a shower, ties a towel around his waist and they retire to the bedroom. Only Charley, Goose and Boa are sharing the bedroom too. And we want to go to bed. Boa had to share the bed with Mav and Dirk making out. Who said, "it sounds like somebody stirring macaroni?" Because it did. We read magazines while the macaroni got stirred. Charley read Dirk his horoscope in between their marathon make-out session. Pictures were taking. Video was rolled. And Dirk was hamming it up. Then Boa saw something she wished she didn't see....So Mav took Dirk into the closet. Then sent him home in his sweaty clothes. But he left behind his business card that ended up rolled up in a Wet Mess in the bottom of Mav's toiletry bag. Seeing that card with the digits bleeding ink looked a little sad. Is he waiting for her to call? But then I remember that boys do that shit all the time.
We don't wait to get to the beach to meet boys, we pick them up on the car ride down now. The drive down this past weekend entailed Mav tag-teaming with a Beamer. Speeds were up to 100 miles per hour. Passing cars. Weaving. In the cornfields. Boa doesn't like this. The deer may run out. Lassie may run out. That cow from the week before may run out. So Boa closed her eyes. But Goose egged her on. "Honey, are you comfortable with your speed? Don't loose that Beamer!" So the Beamer Guy became Neo. He would signal when we could pass with him. He'd caution us when we couldn't. He gave us the peace sign. We built him up. In fact, I'd like to think he saved our lives a couple times. When we got into town we got to pull up next to him and see who Neo really was. Neo was cute. So naturally we run into him at the bar later that night. Mav walks straight to him.
Neo: "I like how you drive. Do I get a kiss?"
So Mav makes out with Neo. A hook-up in record-breaking fashion.
Drinking tequila with ice makes everyone drunk but it makes Goose Drunk. This past Friday, we went straight for the liquor. Goose says that Boa made everyone some tequila and ice disguised as margaritas. [Heh. Heh. - Boa.] And so everyone got drunk rather early. But the Best Drunk was our Mother Goose. After the tequila and many, many beers we head to the bar. Once there, poor Goosie had to leave the bar almost immediately. The tequila was catching up with her and telling her that the world was spinning and walking was not an option anymore.
Goose exits stage left.
Boa: Drunk. "Should we go after her?"
Mav: Drunk. "Yes."
Boa and Mav: drink drink drink.
Five minutes later. Drink drink drink.
15 minutes later drink drink drink.
Um. Goose is now on the street. Flat down. Cops to the left and a 6'6" 280-lb knight in flannels and a red neck to her right.
Knight: Rushing to Goose's aid. "Baby doll, baby doll, get up."
Goose: "I can't. Help."
Knight: "Baby doll, are you of age? There is a paddy wagon."
The Hulking Knight scoops her up in his arms and proceeds to carry her home. Goose flailing limp in his arms. Goose dropping her purse on the way. Goose's skirt riding up to her shoulders. Goose throwing up in trash cans on the way to the house. All the while, the knight being a perfect gentleman. And so the Knight brings her to the front stoop. And I think he is scared because Goose still needs him. He must be intimidated as all Hell because he most certainly got a peep show from a beautiful drunk girl who NEEDS HIM.
Goose: "Don't go. Help me in the house."
Knight: "Oh. I'm not going in."
Goose: "Help me."
And so he did. Because he is still rocking the whole chivalrous, gentleman Knight act. And as he is sitting on our balcony, sipping his beer, Goose is coming to her senses as all that alcohol poisoning is exiting her body from every which way, and she is finally able to look up to her 6'6" Hulkster, look him in the eyes, possibly fall in love because - Damsel + Distress + Knight + Shining Armour = one hell of a Love Story. But he had No Teeth. No. Really. And so no Love Story.
But we love the Knight and Mav and Boa want to give him a big hug and buy him a case of Budweiser for taking care of our Goosie when we were too selfish to help our third home. Or too drunk. [Yeah. Where were you drunks? - Goose.]
Boa gets redemption with a Lead Foot after one too many Bloody Marys. Previously, Mav and Goose had banned Boa from driving. Ever. They say she is slow. [Whatevs - Boa.] So since Goose can't do the whole Bay Bridge drive and Mav was too drunk in the back seat and she has way too many speeding tickets as it is, it was up to Boa to save the day. Boa came through. Boa drove a hundred miles an hour [Yikes! - Boa.] And made the record time that Mav and Goose challenged her to. Boa is sure she can't repeat that performance. It had to have something to do with the 3 Bloody Mary's, So Co shot, and two Miller Lites we drank before noon that morning. Alcohol gave her much more Confidence or much less Fear.
And sandwiched in between these two hell-raising weekends was a fun week spent with my family. At the beach. But without the Cops and the rubber chickens.