two years ago tomorrow

(in honor of the drunken mess that will soon follow)

so the best friend and i decided to fly out to chicago to visit my friends for st. patrick's day. can you believe that it's next to impossible to find green beer in the windy city? you big city folk don't have that? that's all the rage back on the farm.

green food coloring + ANY beer = green beer, not a complicated recipe.

that was sadly disappointing. we spent a good chunk of our day crammed into a jetta looking for, "the best place to party."

me: if it has beer and sweet music i'll be happy.

jeannie: no, i want to find someplace sweet. it's not every day you party in chicago.

me: yeah, but our flight leaves in two days. could we maybe find a bar today?

slowly and surely we made our way closer to the burbs. closer to their place. closer to where we started, several hours earlier in the day.

ms. k: honestly, if it's got four walls and a ceiling and the beer is flowing, we'll be happy.

so we found this cool little bar in an apartment complex. it looked like an old ski lodge. i thought it was pretty cool. breeder central, naturally, but cool. we went inside and there were four other people there. we decided it was early, around five or so, so we'd give it a shot. plus, as we said we weren't picky. so we all hit up the restrooms, hello several ours in a car. then we made our way to a table and ordered beer. lots of beer.

us: green beer?

server: nope.

us: and why would you? i mean you wouldn't want to be the only place in all of chicago serving it.

so we drank. a lot. and then ordered like three more pitchers. i did my typical find the cute straight guys and then make them think my friends are easy and interested. jeannie and ms. k ended up on this stage doing karaoke. i sat at the table and laughed at with them.


after asking for our bill, discovering that the place didn't accept credit cards, and trying to get enough money together, we headed home. the entire drive i kept turning the seat warmer on ms. k's side up to five. did i mention that i have stealth like abilities?

ms. k: why is my ass on fire?!

me: giggle. giggle.

ms. k: J!

this went on for at least half an hour. and not once did she see me bump her up to five. the entire trip we had been singing enrique iglesias' "escape" however i made up my own words. it had just come out then, and it was on the chicago/st. patrick's day mix i made. me once again taking control of the music at all times. feel free to sing along...

"you can run you can hide, but you can't escape butt love."

yes i'm juvenile. and yes it's infectious.

as we made our way back to the apartment, i told jeannie that ms. k was all too familiar with the subject of the song. just as she was screaming out, "i've never been fucked in the ass!", we turned the corner and discovered a little kid and his mother standing there carrying a laundry basket.

ms. k: oh, sorry about your kid.

jeannie and i both pretended to be shocked and outraged at ms. k's potty mouth. she already felt like an ass, we were just adding more fuel to the fire.

ms. k: guys, seriously why was there a little kid out at two in the morning. i think hearing that was the least of his troubles.

tomorrow the tradition continues. we're meeting at 6:30 in the a.m. to start our day. green beer. beads. new outfits. drunk dialing, oh yes, there will be plenty of that. *trust*