Will and I are spending a long weekend at his parent's house this weekend. It is his Dad's 75th birthday and so there are family and friends coming in and they are having a big party. On the first night there, us girls were hanging out, innocently enough, talking about girl stuff. My Mother-in-Law (henceforth to be called MIL) hands me this little flask and says, "here, try this, it's Apple Pie." I said no since I don't drink and I don't really like alcohol. The flask was passed to someone else and they commented on how good it was. Okay, I'll try it. One sip and I was like, "damn, that is good!" I took another sip. I was warm. It felt good. I took another sip. I'm getting a hint of a buzz. I know you don't believe me when I say this, but literally, that is all it takes. Apparently, Apple Pie is a mixture of apple juice, apple cider, cinnamon, sugar and Everclear. Everclear is 190 proof. It is potent shit. And I liked it. A lot. To the point where I drank the remaining amount and then snorted the fumes. Turns out, I'm a closet lush. After everyone saw how fond I was of this drink and how little it took to make me giggly, a phone call was made and more Apple Pie would be delivered in the morning.
Day two of our adventure. The Apple Pie arrived and we found ourselves around the fire pit again in the evening. There was about 10 of us in the circle and I was about to get my drink on. I had my dixie cup full of Apple Pie and life was good. Then, the second cup of Apple Pie. From here, things got sketchy, but here is what I recall.
First, my right eyebrow was inexplicably hot. Then, I was strangely aware of my eyelids. I think things were progressing as the giggling started. My partner in crime, Polly Passion Party, was drinking along with me and her beloved dog was sitting on her lap. I don't know how it happened, but somehow he started to fall between the two chairs. One paw on her chair, one paw on my chair, he was straining, struggling to remain on the chair. We both had drinks in our hands, we didn't have a spare hand to save the dog. Down he went. This could have been the most hysterical thing that happened all day. I lost it and burst out in hysterical laughter. Then Will comes walking outside. He had shorts on earlier, but was just now returning to the fire circle with sweats on and his shirt was tucked in. He looked like an elderly short bus rider. I looked at him and told him he looked ridiculous and laughed so hard I was crying. When I had composed myself, his shirt was untucked and he was sitting next to me shaking his head. I told him I hated his sweats pants guts and laughed and laughed and laughed.
At this point, I could not feel my face. I noticed my phone buzzing and realized my boss had called the previous day and left a message. Crap, she needed something and because we are in an area that had no cell service (I had wi-fi connection only from the house), I didn't get her message. My buzzed self wondered, should I call her? This probably isn't the best time to call her. I wonder if it is too late where she is...I'll just send her a text...or email. Yeah, that's what I'll do. Good, all done. Now, about that Apple Pie. I was challenged to throw back a shot of it and to quit screwing around with this sipping routine. No, I can't. I can't. Okay, I'll do it. BAM. Down da hatch!
It was at this point that we realized we had drank all the Apple Pie. I thought the party was over. I was wrong. We had Fireball Whiskey and that meant it was back on like Donkey Kong. I didn't want any. No way. I was not going to drink that crap. Was. Not. Going. To. But, what I didn't know is that the rules of fire circle clearly state that if a bottle is passed to you, you are REQUIRED to take a shot. I didn't know that. I couldn't break the code and the peer pressure was intense. I didn't want to get kicked out of the fire circle. These were my people. Okay, I'll do it. Mother Trucker!!! Fire! Fire! Fire in the hole! Hot, hot, hot!!! I need a chaser! Ack! Goldfish crackers. I needed Goldfish crackers. We had some, so I started downing them to soak up the fire in my throat and belly. I thought I had fulfilled my obligation, but I'll be damned, that effing bottle kept coming around the circle. And, I couldn't break the fire circle code. I'm an honorable person.
From this point on, things are even sketchier. Here is what I remember. I told my MIL and everyone else about the first time Will brought me here to meet his parents and that we had sex in the bedroom that has the wrought iron headboard and how I had to hang on to them tightly so it would not bang against the wall and make noise. Will's sister cringed, but I went on to tell her we had also had sex in the other beds in the house. And, that we had had sex upstairs, quietly, the other night when she stayed at our house. This information was apparently too much information for Will's immediate family. I then advised everyone that I was a sharer and if they had any questions, at all, about Will or I, it was now open Q & A time. Ask me anything and I will tell you. The fire circle drew quiet. While everyone was laughing raucously a few moments ago, they were now quiet. And, here comes the Fireball again. Damn it!!! It's like the devil in a bottle. From what I understand, this was the part where I provided running commentary on what was happening in my body between the Goldfish, Apple Pie and Fireball. I think it went something like this, "My tummy is all freaked out, the Apple Pie is all like, hey Fireball, what are you doing down here and the Fireball is all like, nothing, just burning the shit out of her guts, what are you doing? and the Apple Pie was like, nothing, just hanging out rotting out her guts and the Goldfish are like, hey, we are just here to eat the cinnamon...." Apparently it went on for a while. After that, I was laughing about the ridiculousness of Will's sweats again. They are effing hilarious.
Now, the thing about partying with Polly Passion Party is that she has all kinds of great advice for people about sex. Like, when you do shots of Fireball, you just throw it back to the back of your throat and swallow...you know, like a girl would when, well, you know. Yikes. Well, I informed everyone I was not a swallower, so I couldn't do that. I guess my openness inspired Polly Passion Party as she started asking who needed a vibrator or a cock ring (she sells them, in case you hadn't picked up on that). A couple of the women there said, no way, they didn't need one. I felt like I needed to do a public service, so I said, "Any woman here that says she doesn't need a vibrator, or has never used one, probably needs one more than anyone else here." Well, glad I got that off my chest. Polly Passion Party suggested my MIL needed a vibrator. Then, she asked everyone in the circle of fire if they were premature-ejaculators because she had something that would help them. Oddly, no one fessed up to it. Go figure. I suggested that we go down to the local bar and ask all the men in there if they were premature-ejaculators, because I was certain she could sell her products. I asked the people of the fire circle if they were in favor of such a venture and it was official, they were. Sadly, we were all too shit-faced to drive.
I also apparently chronicled my night on Facebook, in addition to commenting on other peoples posts to the point where one of my friends' friend said, "Cassondra, I don't understand what you have written." I guess drunk typing is not as clear to other people as it is to the drunk person. Whatev's.
Pretty soon I started to feel pretty yucky. I was really hoping I wasn't going to puke. The fire circle people apparently wanted to move the party down by the river where they had a pile of wood ready to light off. I didn't want to go as I knew I was coming down off my high. Polly Passion Party decided to go and was assisted onto the tailgate of a truck. As they headed down to the river, she yelled to my MIL, "You need to get laid!" And that, my friends, is how the fire circle came to an end for the evening.
I was assisted to the house and shuffled upstairs. My head hurt and I didn't feel good. I laid down on the bed (with the wrought iron headboard) and closed my eyes...and that is when the room started to spin. Oh crap. Will said this was a bad sign and that I needed aspirin and water. I took two Tylenol and drank water until I thought I might puke and then went to bed. I believe the last words I uttered to Will were, "you wanna get lucky?" Turns out, not only am I an alcoholic now, I'm also a drunken slut. All those wasted years in high school being a prude, I could have been so popular.
I woke up this morning with one hell of a headache, but I never did puke. Drinking is not on the agenda tonight. I think I've shared enough. Polly Passion Party begged me not to blog about this episode, but I feel that this experience was important to add to the blog collection. There might be a code in the fire circle about drinking whenever the bottle comes to you, but no one said anything about "what happens in the fire circle stays in the fire circle." No one disclosed any such rule to me. Big mistake, fire circle people, don't get the blogger drunk
Day two of our adventure. The Apple Pie arrived and we found ourselves around the fire pit again in the evening. There was about 10 of us in the circle and I was about to get my drink on. I had my dixie cup full of Apple Pie and life was good. Then, the second cup of Apple Pie. From here, things got sketchy, but here is what I recall.
First, my right eyebrow was inexplicably hot. Then, I was strangely aware of my eyelids. I think things were progressing as the giggling started. My partner in crime, Polly Passion Party, was drinking along with me and her beloved dog was sitting on her lap. I don't know how it happened, but somehow he started to fall between the two chairs. One paw on her chair, one paw on my chair, he was straining, struggling to remain on the chair. We both had drinks in our hands, we didn't have a spare hand to save the dog. Down he went. This could have been the most hysterical thing that happened all day. I lost it and burst out in hysterical laughter. Then Will comes walking outside. He had shorts on earlier, but was just now returning to the fire circle with sweats on and his shirt was tucked in. He looked like an elderly short bus rider. I looked at him and told him he looked ridiculous and laughed so hard I was crying. When I had composed myself, his shirt was untucked and he was sitting next to me shaking his head. I told him I hated his sweats pants guts and laughed and laughed and laughed.
At this point, I could not feel my face. I noticed my phone buzzing and realized my boss had called the previous day and left a message. Crap, she needed something and because we are in an area that had no cell service (I had wi-fi connection only from the house), I didn't get her message. My buzzed self wondered, should I call her? This probably isn't the best time to call her. I wonder if it is too late where she is...I'll just send her a text...or email. Yeah, that's what I'll do. Good, all done. Now, about that Apple Pie. I was challenged to throw back a shot of it and to quit screwing around with this sipping routine. No, I can't. I can't. Okay, I'll do it. BAM. Down da hatch!
It was at this point that we realized we had drank all the Apple Pie. I thought the party was over. I was wrong. We had Fireball Whiskey and that meant it was back on like Donkey Kong. I didn't want any. No way. I was not going to drink that crap. Was. Not. Going. To. But, what I didn't know is that the rules of fire circle clearly state that if a bottle is passed to you, you are REQUIRED to take a shot. I didn't know that. I couldn't break the code and the peer pressure was intense. I didn't want to get kicked out of the fire circle. These were my people. Okay, I'll do it. Mother Trucker!!! Fire! Fire! Fire in the hole! Hot, hot, hot!!! I need a chaser! Ack! Goldfish crackers. I needed Goldfish crackers. We had some, so I started downing them to soak up the fire in my throat and belly. I thought I had fulfilled my obligation, but I'll be damned, that effing bottle kept coming around the circle. And, I couldn't break the fire circle code. I'm an honorable person.
From this point on, things are even sketchier. Here is what I remember. I told my MIL and everyone else about the first time Will brought me here to meet his parents and that we had sex in the bedroom that has the wrought iron headboard and how I had to hang on to them tightly so it would not bang against the wall and make noise. Will's sister cringed, but I went on to tell her we had also had sex in the other beds in the house. And, that we had had sex upstairs, quietly, the other night when she stayed at our house. This information was apparently too much information for Will's immediate family. I then advised everyone that I was a sharer and if they had any questions, at all, about Will or I, it was now open Q & A time. Ask me anything and I will tell you. The fire circle drew quiet. While everyone was laughing raucously a few moments ago, they were now quiet. And, here comes the Fireball again. Damn it!!! It's like the devil in a bottle. From what I understand, this was the part where I provided running commentary on what was happening in my body between the Goldfish, Apple Pie and Fireball. I think it went something like this, "My tummy is all freaked out, the Apple Pie is all like, hey Fireball, what are you doing down here and the Fireball is all like, nothing, just burning the shit out of her guts, what are you doing? and the Apple Pie was like, nothing, just hanging out rotting out her guts and the Goldfish are like, hey, we are just here to eat the cinnamon...." Apparently it went on for a while. After that, I was laughing about the ridiculousness of Will's sweats again. They are effing hilarious.
Now, the thing about partying with Polly Passion Party is that she has all kinds of great advice for people about sex. Like, when you do shots of Fireball, you just throw it back to the back of your throat and swallow...you know, like a girl would when, well, you know. Yikes. Well, I informed everyone I was not a swallower, so I couldn't do that. I guess my openness inspired Polly Passion Party as she started asking who needed a vibrator or a cock ring (she sells them, in case you hadn't picked up on that). A couple of the women there said, no way, they didn't need one. I felt like I needed to do a public service, so I said, "Any woman here that says she doesn't need a vibrator, or has never used one, probably needs one more than anyone else here." Well, glad I got that off my chest. Polly Passion Party suggested my MIL needed a vibrator. Then, she asked everyone in the circle of fire if they were premature-ejaculators because she had something that would help them. Oddly, no one fessed up to it. Go figure. I suggested that we go down to the local bar and ask all the men in there if they were premature-ejaculators, because I was certain she could sell her products. I asked the people of the fire circle if they were in favor of such a venture and it was official, they were. Sadly, we were all too shit-faced to drive.
I also apparently chronicled my night on Facebook, in addition to commenting on other peoples posts to the point where one of my friends' friend said, "Cassondra, I don't understand what you have written." I guess drunk typing is not as clear to other people as it is to the drunk person. Whatev's.
Pretty soon I started to feel pretty yucky. I was really hoping I wasn't going to puke. The fire circle people apparently wanted to move the party down by the river where they had a pile of wood ready to light off. I didn't want to go as I knew I was coming down off my high. Polly Passion Party decided to go and was assisted onto the tailgate of a truck. As they headed down to the river, she yelled to my MIL, "You need to get laid!" And that, my friends, is how the fire circle came to an end for the evening.
I was assisted to the house and shuffled upstairs. My head hurt and I didn't feel good. I laid down on the bed (with the wrought iron headboard) and closed my eyes...and that is when the room started to spin. Oh crap. Will said this was a bad sign and that I needed aspirin and water. I took two Tylenol and drank water until I thought I might puke and then went to bed. I believe the last words I uttered to Will were, "you wanna get lucky?" Turns out, not only am I an alcoholic now, I'm also a drunken slut. All those wasted years in high school being a prude, I could have been so popular.
I woke up this morning with one hell of a headache, but I never did puke. Drinking is not on the agenda tonight. I think I've shared enough. Polly Passion Party begged me not to blog about this episode, but I feel that this experience was important to add to the blog collection. There might be a code in the fire circle about drinking whenever the bottle comes to you, but no one said anything about "what happens in the fire circle stays in the fire circle." No one disclosed any such rule to me. Big mistake, fire circle people, don't get the blogger drunk
No comments:
Post a Comment