Weird Friday Night

I was watching Fight Club for the first time ever on Friday night when the phone rang. Rang might not really be the right word anymore though, but the ring tone went off none-the-less. My friend Amy (whom you will all remember from my afternoon at Sidetrack during Oberon Day) called and wanted to me to meet her and a few of her old friends for a beer at Pub 13 after the Deja Vu Music Extravaganza in Ypsi. I wasn't really enjoying Fight Club, which I was surprised by since so many people shit their pants over that film, so I turned it off and went for a pint. I couldn't find at first until I realized that by old friends she didn't mean people she'd known a long time, but rather people who were really old, like in their 70s. We sat for a few minutes & then one of the couples invited us back to their house for more drinks. To quote the Mad Hatter, I couldn't very well have less since I hadn't had any yet, so we went down the street to their sweet sweet old historic home. You may think old and historic are redundant, but many home are old w/o the historic cultural capital & many are restored historic home which aren't really that old. This one is pre-Civil War & was awesome. The other thing that was awesome was their desire to let me drink whatever I wanted. I found a bottle of The Glenlivet & was told to drink as much as pleased me. They didn't have to tell me twice... I finished it & moved on to a decanter of something else. Glenlivet is far from my favorite, but it isn't often that someone offers up 2/3 of a bottle. We were all sitting around talking when Betsie Four (that's not actually her name, but it's close, and it does have a number in it: WTF?), one of the owners of the house, the one responsible for all of the restorations, decides it would be a good idea to smoke a little contraband. (I changed her name since it's so rare & I decided to out her illicit activities.) She gets out this old wooden box containing an old pipe, a roach clip, a broken scale and a baggie that had next to no pot in it. In her drunken state, she proceeded to throw it in the garbage can and then spend the next 20 minutes looking for it. This was still pretty early on in the evening so I could tell we were in for an interesting night. I fixed her scale while they elder-folk smoked their dope, but I'm still not certain why she needed a scale in the 1st place. There is no way in hell this woman is dealing or even buying large enough quantities for it to matter, but whatever, it gave me something to do while they got high. She then asked me how old I am & when I told her I'd be 33 on Tuesday (yes, for those of you not keeping score, it's my b-day today & I'm spending it writing this ridiculous little story), she proceeds to tell me that she has lingerie older than me. I didn't know what to say to that so I just claimed I didn't believe it because it doesn't last that long. She then leaned over & whispered in my ear, "It's true, I save it all & if you saw it, it would give you a huge hard on." Again, I didn't know what to say, so I grabbed Amy & told her & we had a good laugh. Betsie Four's friend had already told me she used to be a dominatrix, like 40 years ago, & that she loved tying people up & whipping them. The lingerie comment takes the cake though. It was one of the most disturbing things I'd ever heard. After that we listened to the Allmans for a bit & took the hell off. Those old dudes certainly know how to party, but holy shit, they certainly know how to creep me out too.

Happy Birthday to me, eh?