what not to wear to a bar

after the BBQ* , the very small town bar was entertaining, to say the least. (the story is long, but well worth the read, really.)

C finally arrived in town with platters in tow. he went straight to the bar, and was trying to save us a table. he called me several times checking on our progress. I said we were on our way.

"on our way" involved getting back to the cabins from A's dad's house. then getting into town. it should have been a short walk. but herding a drunken dozen, when the shepard herself was not with sobriety took a while. C called to say he felt he might have to surrender the table. it was getting ugly. I told him to try and hold out we were nearly there.

we finally got there. I found C, and other people slowly trickled back to the pool room where we were. there was a huge group of us, the table sat about 6 people. shortly after arriving, the table next to us left and said sure, have our table.

a few of the girls started to drag the table the two feet over to the one we were already sitting at. this older "gentleman" in a cowboy hat yells at them: what the hell do you think you're doing.
one of the girls: um, just moving the tables together.
cowboy: move them back. the tables stay where they are.

after the cowboy turned his back to us, A's sister grabs another small table and places it in the two feet between the tables. angrier cowboy comes over attempting to move the table and grabs A's sister's arm. this does not go over well. things are quickly deteriorating. A's angry, A's sister's angry, cowboy is about to blow a gasket.

I, beginning to worry that we're gonna get booted out, step up to the "gentleman" cowboy and try to explain why we want to move the tables together in my best mediative tone. (yes, I'm a middle child, what of it?)

I explain we're just trying to relax and drink a little in celebration of our friends' wedding tomorrow. I finally persuade him to let us move the two big tables together and he walks away, although still a very angry man.

we laugh about it, and soon forget as shots are shared and stories are told and pictures taken.

at one point TheBaker points out that the girls toenails look good. I look at him. he explains no, he's not gay (glancing around to be sure Atlanta, who is, is not around to be offended). I still just look at him. he explains (specifically to me) that yes, even though he bakes and can say that girls' toes look nice he is straight.

hmmm... interesting... that along with his (foiled) attempt to put what I thought was my change from my drink down my shirt is making me wonder if the interest may be somewhat reciprocated? (and it wasn't the change, it was actually my ten, he'd bought my drink for me...)

anyway, back to the entertainment... C returns from the bathroom where he tells me the following story:

so, there's this guy in the restroom and he is telling some other guys
why he's wearing a diaper. yes, you heard me correctly, a diaper.

it's visible, I saw it. no, not that, the diaper.

DiaperBoy told the others in the bathroom that he wore it in case he
was making in roads with a hot chick when he had to use the facilities. ya know,
so if he was about to get a number from a girl, and he had to relieve himself,
he could just use the diapers and still get the number before heading to the
restroom to, um, change.

he also tells the guys listening that the other great benefit is it
makes his package look huge.

I just stare at C in disbelief. he assures me he is relaying a factual account of the bathroom goings-on.

of course I have to spread this story to the girls and TheBaker and anyone else that will listen, because it's hilariously ridiculous!

a little while later all of us girls are on the dance floor shaking it when DiaperBoy walks up. M looks at me and says she's gonna call him on it. I didn't really believe her because M isn't an outspoken person normally. I couldn't have been more wrong.

M walks up to DiaperBoy and says: excuse me, but are you wearing Depends?

I love M. and at this moment she is my hero. but I can't even stick around for the answer. I am dying laughing. I have to tell C what M said.

as I'm telling C, I look over and DiaperBoy is explaining his diaper to the girls. he even whips it out (no, his extra diaper) to show the girls.

I grab my camera... I had to. no one would believe me otherwise.

yes, really. that's it in his left hand.

as the evening's winding down we're all dancing and the angry "gentleman" cowboy walks by M... she "accidentally" hip checks him. wow, that's impressive. I laugh, it was not very hard and harmless.

he walks by again and she repeats her dancing hip-swaying right into him. but really hard this time. I tell her she has to stop. I'm a little frightened she might dislocate the old guys hip. it's after last call anyway.

a drunken dozen or so herding themselves back towards the cabins.

it ends up being TheBaker and I meandering back ahead of everyone else. he's funny and cute and great company to stumble home with... I'm in so much trouble.


* if you haven't read the rest of the posts this week, you should...