MIDNIGHT
From the True Story Files: Mardi Gras Night at the Bowling Alley
This happened a couple of years ago, and I'm sort of surprised I remember it at all, all things considered, but it's one of my favorite memories. Oddly enough, I didn't even want to go. And then I would've missed out on all the fun.
So. Earlier in the week, I was having lunch with my friend Stacy and as we were coming back, she saw a traffic cone on the freeway exit ramp. She threw her car into reverse and went running after it. I never knew she liked to steal traffic cones, and I don't think she knew it either, before that moment, but anyway, there it was -- new adventures in petty theft. The Saturday afterwards, she came to pick me up so we could go to Mardi Gras Night at the local bowling alley. Like I said, I didn't actually want to go, because bowling and I don't get along all that well (or at all, really -- the germs and everything), but I decided to go anyway. As we stood in my driveway, I happened to mention that my neighbors had a traffic cone in their driveway, for reasons that were beyond my understanding. And that was it -- another traffic cone for the collection.
We got to the bowling alley, and since I won't have anything to do with rented shoes, I decided to sit out the actualy bowling part for sitting around and drinking margaritas. There was something about a raffle or something, and after a few drinks, I thought, hey! What the hell? Raffles are good! So I bought a ticket. I also bought a feathered Mardi Gras mask, because, hey! What the hell? Feathered Mardi Gras masks are good!
After several more drinks, I found myself standing outside of the bowling alley, singing "Sixteen Tons" in a borrowed cell phone (my battery had died) to Caryn, because I told her I would totally drunk-dial her, and she told me I had to sing. A legend was born in that moment, a legend that defies explanation, but a legend all the same.
Went back inside. I think I ate some mini tacos, but maybe I'm just making that up, and who's gonna know? Not me, that's for sure. They were announcing the latest round of raffle winners, and I pulled my ticket out of my pocket. What the hell? I WON! I went over to the bar to retrieve my prize, only to be handed a large, awkward box. When I returned to my friends, they asked what I'd gotten, and I said, "Uh, I don't know." We looked closely at the box -- it was a table. I WON A TABLE IN A RAFFLE AT MARDI GRAS NIGHT AT THE BOWLING ALLEY!!! Does it get better than that? I don't think so.
After a little more sitting around and drinking while guarding my table-prize and watching other people bowl, it was time to go home. I sat in the backseat of the car while I waited for Stacy, and while doing so, I put my Mardi Gras mask on one of the traffic cones and had a conversation with it. I think I named the cone Betsy. It wouldn't surprise me, because I seem to name all sorts of things Betsy when I've had a little to drink, including (but not limited to) the large yellow fish in the huge aquarium at this restaurant that's too expensive for me, even though I've managed to have dinner there twice. Or once. One time I just went there for drinks. Because it was my birthday and I was barhopping and this was before we found the place that was having $1.50 martini night.
But I digress.
So, after sitting in the car, talking to Betsy the Cone, I got home. And then I went to bed. But not before sending a drunk email to everyone I knew at the time about how I WON A TABLE IN A RAFFLE AT MARDI GRAS NIGHT AT THE BOWLING ALLEY!!! Because really, when things like that happen, they need to be gloated over. Even if it has to be in a clumsy, typo-filled way.
The end.
This happened a couple of years ago, and I'm sort of surprised I remember it at all, all things considered, but it's one of my favorite memories. Oddly enough, I didn't even want to go. And then I would've missed out on all the fun.
So. Earlier in the week, I was having lunch with my friend Stacy and as we were coming back, she saw a traffic cone on the freeway exit ramp. She threw her car into reverse and went running after it. I never knew she liked to steal traffic cones, and I don't think she knew it either, before that moment, but anyway, there it was -- new adventures in petty theft. The Saturday afterwards, she came to pick me up so we could go to Mardi Gras Night at the local bowling alley. Like I said, I didn't actually want to go, because bowling and I don't get along all that well (or at all, really -- the germs and everything), but I decided to go anyway. As we stood in my driveway, I happened to mention that my neighbors had a traffic cone in their driveway, for reasons that were beyond my understanding. And that was it -- another traffic cone for the collection.
We got to the bowling alley, and since I won't have anything to do with rented shoes, I decided to sit out the actualy bowling part for sitting around and drinking margaritas. There was something about a raffle or something, and after a few drinks, I thought, hey! What the hell? Raffles are good! So I bought a ticket. I also bought a feathered Mardi Gras mask, because, hey! What the hell? Feathered Mardi Gras masks are good!
After several more drinks, I found myself standing outside of the bowling alley, singing "Sixteen Tons" in a borrowed cell phone (my battery had died) to Caryn, because I told her I would totally drunk-dial her, and she told me I had to sing. A legend was born in that moment, a legend that defies explanation, but a legend all the same.
Went back inside. I think I ate some mini tacos, but maybe I'm just making that up, and who's gonna know? Not me, that's for sure. They were announcing the latest round of raffle winners, and I pulled my ticket out of my pocket. What the hell? I WON! I went over to the bar to retrieve my prize, only to be handed a large, awkward box. When I returned to my friends, they asked what I'd gotten, and I said, "Uh, I don't know." We looked closely at the box -- it was a table. I WON A TABLE IN A RAFFLE AT MARDI GRAS NIGHT AT THE BOWLING ALLEY!!! Does it get better than that? I don't think so.
After a little more sitting around and drinking while guarding my table-prize and watching other people bowl, it was time to go home. I sat in the backseat of the car while I waited for Stacy, and while doing so, I put my Mardi Gras mask on one of the traffic cones and had a conversation with it. I think I named the cone Betsy. It wouldn't surprise me, because I seem to name all sorts of things Betsy when I've had a little to drink, including (but not limited to) the large yellow fish in the huge aquarium at this restaurant that's too expensive for me, even though I've managed to have dinner there twice. Or once. One time I just went there for drinks. Because it was my birthday and I was barhopping and this was before we found the place that was having $1.50 martini night.
But I digress.
So, after sitting in the car, talking to Betsy the Cone, I got home. And then I went to bed. But not before sending a drunk email to everyone I knew at the time about how I WON A TABLE IN A RAFFLE AT MARDI GRAS NIGHT AT THE BOWLING ALLEY!!! Because really, when things like that happen, they need to be gloated over. Even if it has to be in a clumsy, typo-filled way.
The end.
