Last week Emily’s Facebook status indicated that she was having a margarita; since I was working I was able to monitor Facebook with a singular fastidiousness. I was talking to Erin – senior year Erin – and we agreed that we needed a margarita as well, but that wasn’t our day. Last night I was released from work early and I text-messaged Erin arranging that we too would have our margaritas.
This was an exciting night – not because Erin and I were getting our drink on but because our patron saint, Amanda would be with us. Amanda’s religious beliefs differ from ours and she does not drink alcohol but because were going to Chili’s, which isn’t strictly a bar, she would go with us. We respect Amanda’s religious beliefs and once threatened to gut two freshmen like fish if they continued to make fun of her when she sang an anthem to Jesus at the school’s talent show. Also, our work schedules keep us apart or we would meet more often. Dee couldn’t make it because we call can’t be in one place at one time – the Secret Service won’t allow it in case of a catastrophe.
I do not drink often enough because I have little tolerance for alcohol. This is comical in most people, but I have a complete lack of discretion as it is and very little tact. Imagine if you will someone whose tongue is loose having that tongue loosened?
Here is a brief rundown of what I remember babbling about:
- Women go to the bathroom in groups. One time, while on a double date with my friend Andy and some hussies from our University, he decided to make fun of this by accompanying me to the bathroom when I excused myself. I normally do not linger in a public restroom and I certainly do not sit but this time I had to because Montezuma was having his revenge and when Montezuma wants revenge he not only gets it, but he gets it when wants to regardless of your accommodation. So, Andy, thinking he was just following me as a joke upon the floozies had to be in the room when I cast out the most horrible of demons. I know you’re as glad to have read that as I was to tell it because that was a story that we were never going to repeat, to anyone. Coincidentally, when Andy, the Reverend Doctor James, and I went to that same diner to study for our African American History Exam every – and I do mean every – black person in Nebraska was present. It was a bit awkward, as it was Nebraska.
- Amanda was sharing a secret and I announced that we already knew and Erin corroborated the fact that we (Erin and I) share everything. We’re not so much gossips; we’re more into information. We don’t want to destroy you – we just want to know all your business. Then I shared how James and I, when we’d eat together, had a seating arrangement where we would sit across from each other to give us a three-hundred-sixty degree view of who was coming or going because we didn’t gossip but if you decided to mention how a girl on the debate team had an easier time of growing a beard than you did, well then she’d show up out of now where.
- I don’t remember the other embarrassing story that I intended keep to myself that I shared, but I will share this one since it goes along with the theme and is a story from University that doesn’t involve the Reverend Doctor James or Melissa, Bishop of the Lutheran Church Melissa-Synod (to which James and I secretly and heretically belong). There was this girl we went to university with who pierced one of her womanly features. There were several results to this. First, she blamed me for telling the whole campus about it but this isn’t true. It’s true that I told some people about it but she told me about it in Dr. Jewett’s class and as I didn’t know what a clitoris was I had no idea what I was telling people when I told them and told them because I didn’t know what I was talking about. One of my roommates (not the Reverend Doctor - he wasn’t at university yet, he was in the Army being a paratrooper in the First Amish Paratrooper Brigade), had to show me on the Internet what exactly she had pierced (remember, this was before the internet was common and used to educate children about the birds and the bees). However, weeks later the girl got her pictures developed of her piercing and Petina and Becky contrived to make me look at them. It must be noted that Becky was a “good girl” and it was probably all Petina, but I had gone to the girl’s dorm to study/have an audience with Candace of Jurchen. Instead of studying as planned, the girl with the piercing had left her room unlocked and like the good Lutherans her dorm-mates where trashing her room. I was asked to help them and as a gentleman I could not refuse to help a lady when help was needed. Upon entering the room Becky handed me an envelope of pictures and said, “here, take a look at these!” Bad idea: flipping through innocuous pictures of homecoming, a trip to Lincoln, and other things was the other girl’s, um, modification. Of all the naughty parts on any of the young ladies we went to school with that you might want to take a peek at, she was not that girl and these were not those parts. It was a trauma, but also when Amber (Ambre in Spanish) and I became friends because she thought it was terrible of them to spring such disgusting pictures on such a virginal soul as mine. Amber had previously tried to kill me not three steps away from where she stood admonishing her friends for their awful crime. If I spelled clitoris wrong, I apologize: Tara said I don’t need to know how to spell it (or pluralize it) as long as I could find it. This also gives an alternate meaning to, "What's in your wallet?" in our group.
And this is why I only drink with friends because my babbling becomes worse and worse and I tell stories I didn’t want to tell anyone. However, given the money and a designated driver I would spend every night at Chili’s with Erin and Amanda drinking and telling horrible stories – albeit a different Chili’s because our waiter was tres creepy.
I believe I was (and still am) a "good girl." I'm sorry you had to see that aweful picture and am very thankful that I did not!
Posted by: Petina | Tuesday, 21 April 2009 at 11:51 PM
Margaritas every night? You are even funnier when you drink, lol.
Posted by: Erin Colligan | Wednesday, 22 April 2009 at 08:54 AM
Are you aware that on Mondays margaritas are only $.99 at Tumbleweed. Oh, sweet, sweet Tumbleweed!
Posted by: Linda | Wednesday, 22 April 2009 at 12:05 PM
We do go to the bathroom in groups--so we can diss on you guys!! You can be on FB at work? Our district filter blocks it, along with many legitimate sites. I get silly when I drink and sometimes it does loosen my already loose tongue. Ah, well.
Posted by: Margaret | Wednesday, 22 April 2009 at 08:55 PM