The weekend was very fun, though inexcusably B-less. Friday night a bunch of us scurried around in preparation for the big Mardi Gras party at Rob & Vicki’s place. Johann picked up some Chicken Tikka Masala and brought it over there for me. I think that might be the perfect pre-party meal. B decided not to come because she had to work Saturday morning. This was probably a very good move on her part, since I didn’t wind down until after 5AM. Kenny and Cathy showed up around 10PM I believe, which kicked much ass. Kenny got pretty messed up pretty fast, but not before having a damn good time. I took K&C back to my place around 1:15 then came back to put my larynx out of its misery on the Karaoke stage.
All night this gay dude was giving me shit. I couldn’t quite figure out whether he was just being playful or was actually angry, so in my infinite optimism I resigned to the former. This guy really wanted to make sure everybody knew he was wearing Prada. Several times while Josh, Patrick and I were singing, Captain Cornhole (actually, let’s just call him “Kyler”, to preserve anonymity and some slight bit of civility) tried to command us to “sing something more gay.” When we did not comply to his liking, he acted as if he was going to throw a Corona bottle at me. Shit, even Elton John and the B-52s weren’t gay enough for him. I told him to settle down and we’d let him sing whatever queer anthem he’d like.
Several minutes later, I was sitting with Vicki and “Kyler” decided to sit on the other side of me on the couch. He kept muttering some shit about me being a homophobe under his breath, and I kept looking at him and giving him a big grin. At this he returned a quick & perturbed mock-smile and replied, “You know, honey, most homophobes turn out to be gay!”
I patted him on the shoulder and said, “Well, HONEY, I’m neither, so chill out.” After this he stood up and said he wanted to leave but wasn’t sure if he should drive. I quickly remarked that, “Yeah, it’s never a good idea to drive gay.”
This was the last straw. Kyler’s face became roughly the color of this Coca-Cola can. He yanked the Mardi Gras beads from around his neck and, attempting to strike me, slapped Vicki across the face with all his [I'm resisting the urge to make an observation about the rigidity of his wrist] might. Kyler ran. Rob showed up and was understandably angry that someone would hurt his wife in their own home.
Not the greatest end to an otherwise memorable evening, but it will make for a more and more humorous story as the years go by, the violence gets more life-threatening, and the perpetrator gets gayer.
Saturday we went for lunch at Ali Baba then farted around the house until around 9PM when we played a fairly quick game of poker, relatively speaking. It was fun. Most folks only bought in for 5 or 6 bucks, and I gave Taylor of couple of bucks to play just to see if he enjoyed it. I think he did, once he learned what a flush was.
After I took 5 or 6 bucks from everybody (10 from The Rev), we just sat around, snacked, and shot the shit some more. Sunday we got up and had Chipotle for lunch before K&C left for home. It’s always cool having them around.
Last night I got caught up on Lost, Scrubs, and that other show. As of this evening, I’ll be two hours behind on 24. I’m thinking of just waiting until the weekend to watch that with B as part of our sure-to-be-exciting, pre-emptive Valentine’s Day strike.
