Sunday, July 23, 2006

Buckets O' Beer

Buckets O’ Beer

Talking on the phone to my friend, Abi:

-So, I am going to knock on your door and you’re going to answer it. I am going to judge by your reaction if my outfit looks stupid or not. I’ll take a change of clothes…if you think I look stupid – I’m changing.

-Well, don’t take offense when I laugh! Now I am going to laugh…but it won’t be because your outfit looks stupid…well, at least not initially. It’s just that now I am expecting this…and now it’s just funny.

-Okay, promise me you’ll tell me honestly if I look stupid. I don’t want to look stupid!

-I promise. I promise! Remember, though, I am going to laugh.

-It’s noted. Thanks.

I get to Abi’s (without that change of clothes), she answers the door…and doesn’t laugh. She’s training her dog, Lina, to not jump on people. She won’t even look at me. Oh GOD! She hates my outfit so much so she can’t even look at me! When she finally does, she nods her head in approval and says:

-It’s cute…why are you always so much more dressed up than me?

-I’m not! You’re wearing those cute Rock in Republic jeans I love…and you know how they make your ass look…not to mention that sparkly top you’re wearing is totally cute. I just happen to have on a dress…but we all know that denim is the new wear with all.

We head out to SatCo (San Antonio Taco Company). If you are not from Nashville, or are from Nashville but have never been to SatCo, let me give you a glimpse into what this place is like. It get’s bad ratings all the time – not customer service bad ratings (though this is nothing stellar), not bad reviews from the locals (I’m telling you, it’s a favorite), it gets bad sanitary reviews. But it is so good…it’s worth the potential gastric distress that will happen the next day. And trust me…it is not so much of a “potential” as it is a “promise.”

Two tacos each, cheese dip (sooo good), and a bucket of beer. I can hear my diet blowing past me…but you know what? I ran. Like three miles. I deserve this. Okay, so I would have had to run like 80 miles to even remotely cover what I ate last night…but everyone needs a night off.

We’re sitting there…talking about life, work, friends and guys for probably two hours. Just relaxing, drinking some beer and consuming massive amounts of saturated fat. Our bucket has diminished quite significantly and we are working on our last beer each. This worker comes over. While holding out a bucket of beer he says:

-I was told to deliver this to you ladies.

Our faces must have read so many things; humor, confusion, embarrassment…

-Who sent it over?

-I was told not to say.

-Umm okay, well thanks then.

Abi and I look at each other and laugh…how bizarre. We look around for someone to make his way over but no one comes. We look for any sign from anyone that would say… “Hey! I sent those beers over to you!” But we could find no facial expression that would signify such thoughts. I feel weird opening the first beer, not because I thought it was contaminated or poisoned with the date rape drug…but because it was just awkward…no one had come over yet to claim his good deed.

And no one did come over.

Finally, Abi in utter defiance says:

-Oh what the Hell.

Grabs the bottle opener and cracks open a cold one. The table behind her starts to snicker. There are four guys there are two girls. I figure they were the ones that bought the bucket or they heard the guy come over and present it to us and just thought the situation was funny. I leaned more towards them having purchased, though it was weird since they were in mixed company.

Let’s just be honest, the whole situation was weird.

So, Abi and I start drinking our free beer and the table gets up to leave. One of the guys walks past our table, brushing up against me (when there was plenty of room) and says:

-Enjoy your beer ladies.

Just like that. Very nonchalant.

Then this other guy walks up to me from the side, gets down into my ear and whispers:

-You’re everything that I’ve dreamed of. You’re perfect. (Loosely translated…can’t remember the exact wording)

Then they left. Without another word, they were gone. That was it. They spent $11 on a bucket of beer for two ladies that they couldn’t even get the guts to say “Hi” to. What idiots. Good luck in the future guys. You’ll really go far with that plan of action…or rather…no action.

Abi and I put the remaining four into my purse and headed for the Stage.

PS – I feel gross that I had six beers. GROSS.

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