I read once that if you ever wrote a book you should give it a title after you're done. In the spirit of going with that general concept, I've decided to title this blog with how it will end.
There was a time when I didn't drink at all, until I was almost 23 years old. Yup, even that one night when I was 19 and my sister and her friends snuck me into the hottest local bar in town (Tink's). They made me wait in the creepy, dark, raper side alley. My sister kicked open the side emergency exit. I ran inside and froze, watching as bouncers fought through the crowd of people to get to that door. "GET LOST!" she yelled, and full-force shoved me into the crowd, where I immediately got lost in a sea of people, bad music and plastic jewelry. Even that night, I couldn't bring myself to drink. It was illegal. I didn't do illegal things! And for those of you who don't know my back story, I had every intention of becoming a nun after I graduated high school. My mom made me go to college. But I digress...
Flash forward to today. I don't have the same hang-ups about alcohol as I did back then. In fact, I pride myself on making up for lost time. Here are just some examples of my evolution...
I went to a wedding as a rent-a-date with a friend about 13 years ago. It was one of those fancy, "we have so much money we burn it when we're bored" kind of weddings in New Jersey. It was held at the same place where the movie Cocoon was filmed. We started drinking White Russians because we were fancy, like the people around us. This story ends with me being so hammered I couldn't chew my food once dinner was served. I ended up sleeping in my car on the side of the highway somewhere in between states. To say I was hung over is an understatement. Clearly, I was an amateur. Note to self: Get your shit together.
More recently, I was at a work function where we got set up in sweet hotel rooms. Literally. We were in Hershey. And because no one had to drive, the booze was flowing like...uh...wine. Literally. Figuratively....? It was an unlimited, open bar tab from 5pm to midnight and people were drinking like we were 3rd class passengers on the sinking Titanic. I ended up sitting next to a manager from another part of the company who was drunk and priding himself on being the King of Offensive Jokes. As soon as he told me he that, I believe my next statement to him was, "You're adorable." Of course I challenged him (I tend to throw down when I drink). I won after 2 jokes AND I got him to move his seat. Some people can't handle my Awesome. There are even rare times when even I can't keep up with my own Awesome. That's what the next story is about.
Wedding story #2: So, I go to this wedding and it is in the country. There were tents set up. There were bugs, grass, and a big fancy trailer with separate facilities for the ladies and gents. I hit the ground running, which is just a polite way of me admitting that I was rage drinking due to some ridiculous shit that occurred to me before I got there. First drink - vodka tonic. Were you expecting beer? What am I, a farmer? Who drinks beer at weddings? Then a dude from Duck Dynasty showed up (one of the younger ones from the show - his beard wasn't gray) and I witnessed the grandmother of the bride trying to sex him up. He escaped her first attempt and I immediately decided to stick close to him and turn that into a Grandma Love Connection. I knew he'd thank me later. Alcohol gives me the best ideas. Flash forward 3 vodkas later: Love connection forgotten, I started grabbing random people to drag them to the bar to get drinks, because "NO ONE SHOULD DRINK ALONE." 6 vodkas and one beer deep: I hit that special stage of Drunk where I really thought I could dance. No, wait. I didn't think it. I knew it. Even now that I think back, I am pretty sure I was A-MAZE-BALLS out on that dance floor of grass. And then an hour after that, Fate stepped in and I threw up in a garbage can, scaring the innocence out of a little girl who was standing nearby. Lesson to that kid: Showing off your amazeballs dance skills will cause you to vomit. That is the biggest reason why I don't dance. It just gets too messy.
Wedding story #3: I perfected my skills.
My friends got engaged and had asked me to officiate. Actually, it went something like this:
Couple: "We're ENGAGED!"
Me: "That's awesome! Hey, can I be your minister person? Ha ha ha"
(a few days later)
Couple: "Will you really marry us? That'd be great!"
Me: (to them) "SURE! It'll be fun!" (in my head) "Oh hell, I was only joking."
Being their Officiant was terrifying, no matter how I looked at it. Yeah, I write a blog but this is for fun and most times it sucks. Not to mention, my blogs aren't usually read by more than 5 people and 3 of those people are relatives and 2 of them can barely read. Lastly...writing for eyes and writing for speech are wildly different. But hey, what's the worst that could happen, right?
My friends were expecting 75 people at their wedding and wanted a ceremony that would make folks laugh AND cry. The end result was a ceremony that referenced all of the following: The IRS, Miranda Rights, prison, Ebola, Jurassic Park, Rueben sandwiches, beer (mentioned twice), Dr. Seuss, love and a grapefruit martini. And it was a hit - I got compliments all night. And ya know what I drank before the ceremony? Vodka. And after? More vodka. I believe the most unruly I got that night was when I demanded the bartender on duty buy my house, but in the grand scheme of things that's not so bad.
And by the power vested in me by the State of Pennsylvania, Montgomery County, Universal Life Church and the grapefruit martini I had before the ceremony...I now pronounce you Husband and Wife. You may kiss the bride.
Damn. I'm a natural.
