My Life as a Bad After School Special
(We interrupt your regularly scheduled post to bring you this newsflash: My life is currently awesome, because a Wizard just called me- yes, a wiz.. YES, stop LAUGHING, he totally WAS, and he called to tell me I can get my Harry Potter book at the stroke of midnight Friday night. YAY! Now... I just have to learn enough magic to figure out how to pick up said Potter book while actually AT the beach. Anyway, we now return to our regularly scheduled update.)Ok, so you know how in the late 80's and early 90's there would be all these movies on at about 4, the "After School Specials", and we would learn A Very Special Lesson about drinking or drugs or sex or smoking or fun in general or anything else we were Strongly Discouraged From? And these were HILARIOUS, because it always had the 32 year old actor playing the senior in high school terrorizing the underdeveloped 12 year old playing the freshman, and the Senior always wore black and was gravely menacing because my GOD people, look at the STUBBLE on that kid. And the Evil Senior was always like, "Drink, you know you want to drink, all the cool people drink", and if that failed and skinny wimpy my-voice-is-changing "freshman" managed to refuse him, the Evil Senior got in his face, because this dude had a mortgage and child support and the only way for him to survive was to get this freshman to DRINK THE BEER, so finally the freshman drank it, got instantly deathly drunk, and ran into a train and died and we all learned yet another Very Special Lesson. Namely, that After School Specials were stupid, because no one in high school ever has, or ever would actually talk like that.
And we were right, no high schooler talks like that. However, adults in their mid-twenties and thirties at the beach? Totally talk like that.
K and I worked full days and left for the beach around 7 Friday. Given the fact that we hit construction traffic while still in DC, we made pretty good time. However, we arrived much later than everyone else, which meant we were far more sober than everyone else, which was apparently Not Okay. We walk in.
Rock Star: "Drink a beer!"
K and I: "We have beer."
Rock Star: "Do shots. There are shots. Or beer bong it! There is the beer bong!"
K and I: :"We... we are fine".
J Roget: "DRINK! CHUG CHUG! DRINK FASTER! MUST GET DRUNK".
K and I: "Christ".
Then we got to the bar, and I observe this exchange between King and POS:
King: "This is goldschlager. You will drink it."
POS: "I cannot. I cannot drink it. It will kill me. There will be death. Death and throwing up."
King: "YOU WILL DRINK IT."
POS: "NO! I cannot..."
King: "DRINK MOTHERFUCKER".
POS: (takes shot).
King: (To me) "Are you still sober?"
Me: "Um... yes?"
King: "We have to take care of that."
So, you see, when the 32 year old was playing the high school senior, it wasn't the wording that was ridiculous so much as the setting. Because 32 year olds? Do talk like that.
But it was a fun night, and K and I remained in the neighborhood of sober, or at least a short taxicab away, and the next day was spent chilling on the porch and drinking champagne and making new friends. Well, for me and Rock Star. K and J. Roget? Sort of... asleep. But anyway. And the guys played Matha-ma-ball, which.... I don't get. I watched for hours and I still don't.. get it. It is catch. With... math. And enough drinking to knock two guys down for the count before 9pm. Then we decided to go to dinner, which was great, although there were approximately 47 of us at the table and the food took until tomorrow to come.
K and I wanted to avoid going out, but our tentative plan of bottles of wine and movies was literally greeted with bellowing attacks. So then we tried... well, ok. We hid. Behind a car. Hoping everyone would leave, and just... fprget about us. But then we got bored. We are the Worst. Secret. Agents. Ever. So we went out briefly and then went to bed in the subzero Orphanage, where only the body heat of the four people in one bed made it survivable.
Sunday, after the beach, the four of us finally joined the club of people who have seen Eurotrip and understand how awesome "Scotty Doesn't Know" is. Because Scotty? He doesn't know. At ALL. (Don't tell Scotty). And that movie rocked.
And we left the beach in one piece and went to the outlet mall and I came home and watched Harry Potter with my roommates.
And we all learned A Very Special Lesson: namely, Dewey still rocks.
And Scotty doesn't know.
posted by Citycat @ 12:33 PM
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