Sweaty bum, street beat, and a missing hotdog…

Fall, its one of those great seasons where there is change, the leaves start to change color, baseball is ending, football starting and the air getting a little cooler. Well, in a perfect world it would be like that; but in Baltimore, we don’t really get a fall, it stays hot until about mid november…I’m thinking its because of global warming, but thats just me. Another thing the fall season brings us; the start of some great festivals in the city. One of them would be the Street Beat festival in Fed Hill. Local venders come out, local bands, and best of all…there is a LARGE beer truck with MASSIVE cups to serve them in. But I am getting a head of myself here.

Before the beer from the wonderful beer trucks, there was brunch and pre-gaming at a friend’s house. Any way we could save some dollars works best for us. We played some rounds of drinking catchphrase (really…its fun game I suggest you all play it), ate some pancakes, drank some beer and some gin from the gin bucket; another great invention we came up with. Well, we were sitting on stools chatting, drinking, eating, drinking, laughing, drinking (see a theme?); and I would like to point out again that it is UBER hot out and I was wearing capri pants made of material that should never be made into clothing worn in the hot weather. Because, ANY kind of moisture shows up on these pants. And I am hot by nature, so sitting on a stool, in a hot house, I began to sweat…and I got a sweaty bum. No big deal right? WRONG! When we all decided to go to the festival I stood up and looked at my backside and saw a HUGE wet mark…like most embarassing sweat stain EVER. I went to my roommate to see if it was as bad as I thought. All I got in response was laughter, obviously this would be an issue. My roommate agreed to walk back to our house with me so I could change and, being the good friend she is, would walk behind me so that no one would really see my sweaty bum.

So for 4 blocks I heard nothing but my roommate’s laughter coming from behind me…THANKS FOR THE SUPPORT! We get home, I just shower and put on a dress, NOT made of that god awful fabric of those pants. Dresses are great in the summer, they breath, they don’t touch you…perfection. I’m ready to go…off to street beat!

I’m glad we pregamed before because I had absolutely no money for beers or anything for that matter. But my friends came through and just bought a whole bunch of beer tickets and handed them out to us. Yay big beers.

Fast forward to about 3 hours later. I went to my friend’s apartment to use the bathroom, she lived right by the main street and left her place open for us to beat the heat and use the potty. Well…I walk in to my friend, we’ll call her Sarah, laying on her bed, with her legs up in the air, pants half-way down her legs and my other friend…Owen his name will be…pulling the pants off. My friend Sarah was yelling “Harder! Do it harder!” I almost peed myself laughing so hard. Apparently, Sarah’s back went out and she couldn’t get out of her pants to go to the bathroom, and Owen came in when she was crying in pain, so he helped her. Still cracks me up.

The rest of the day went by in a drunken blur and ended with a mass text from Sarah, “Who ate the hot dog that was sitting in the pot for like 3 days?”

Did we ever find out? The world will never know.

Yes We Can…have a walk of shame

November 4, 2008…history was made. The first African-American president was elected. Time for change was upon us…also a time for celebration, for me at least. I went to a huge celebration party in Baltimore with many other Democrats in the area along with many Maryland Political Officials. It was all good fun. Open bar, free food, and I had great company, my two guy friends Finn and Mike. We were able to pull some strings and get in the VIP areas and rub elbows with many of the high ups in Maryland politics, all while drinking whatever we wanted. We knew some of the bartenders and was able to get this amazing blue drink. I like to now call it the blue drink that leads to the black hole. I have now found out that the drink was about 90% alcohol…but it didn’t taste that way…it tasted amazing. And went down like water. This my friends was my downfall.

Once the party was over, Mike, Finn and I decided to do a mini bar crawl through our neighborhood to really celebrate. I had decided to partake in this because I was smart and took the day off of work the next day. Go me for thinking ahead. So we stumbled into bar #1…had a beer and a shot and moved on. Bar #2 was pretty much the same. As we entered bar #3…things start getting fuzzy. We do a shot each of GM and have a beer. I begin to talk to this guy next to me… I, to this day can’t tell you what he looks like. Mike and Finn were playing some shoot and kill deer video game that they had at the bar. I feel like I was only talking to the guy for maybe like 5 min. I then look around for my companions for the evening…they had left. Yes thats right, two gentlemen left a lady by herself. And as I said earlier…things were getting a bit fuzzy at this point.

I hate to say it, but this was the time that I blacked out. What I do remember was the fact that my escorts for the evening left me with the bill, and I didn’t even want to drink anymore! I remember paying the bill and then turning back to mystery man who I was talking to…and then it all went black.

Fast forward to the next morning. I wake up wearing only a grey sweatshirt and my first question is where the hell am I. Then it was who the hell is this? And then finally, what on earth happened last night? I didn’t really want answers to my questions so I did what any girl would do in my shoes. I got up, put my pants and shoes on, grab my shirt I was wearing the night before, my bright magenta coat and my black glittered clutch and bolt out the door. Leaving my bed buddy sound asleep. I leave his house to find out that I am, thank goodness, still in my neighborhood, just about 10 blocks away from my house. So I proceed to do the walk of shame. About 2 blocks into my walk I realize that the sweatshirt I am wearing is not only backwards, but its a hooded sweatshirt. So, imagine if you will…at about 6am a girl walking down a VERY busy city street wearing, jeans, silver shoes, carrying a magenta coat with a black glittered clutch; all with a grey hooded sweatshirt on backwards…oh and there was writing on the sweatshirt. Greeeeaaaat. I started the time of change looking like a hot mess….that is how us classy girls do it. Yes We Can… and Yes We Did.

Secret Service Can Make Jokes Too

For about a year I lived about 3 blocks away from President Bush’s daughter and her husband. And for a few months of that time, the secret service were constantly around, parked right outside their house…watching. I liked this thought only because when I would be walking home from the bars, they would be there, I would wave and say hello. They would do the same and in my head, I felt that they would keep somewhat of an eye out for me…maybe they became too observant.

Now we all have had one night stands…its like part of your twenties…its like a law. Well, I was no different to this tradition. On this night I was at a friend’s house for a BBQ, drank quite a bit of beer and ended up hooking up with his neighbor. Now, I’m sorry I will not go into detail about that…sorry

Anyway, so, I was that shady girl who snuck out of the house before the sun came up…or was just peaking its head above the horizon. So, I grab my things and stumble out of the house, trying not to make any noise. My head was pounding and my hair had that JBF look. (for those of you who do not know what that is…just been fucked). I’m trying  my best to not look like I am doing the walk of shame…I held my head high and acted like this was normal, an everyday thing…like I was going to work REALLY early or something. So, I’m doing my “keep your dignity” thing and I walk by the secret service van with the people from the night before still inside. As I approach the van and proceed to pass it, the window rolls down and a very good-looking secret service agent says, “Well, it looks like someone had a good time last night!”

I turned to him and quickly told him to go to hell. All I got from that response was a loud laugh that faded away because he rolled up the window. At that point, my dignity had flown away and I hung my head for the next three blocks…I had been caught in my walk of shame. Well played secret service…you are observant…well played.

Who Needs Pants?

Now this story is coming out of the vault…its a great one, and so I figure I would start with it. Let me paint the picture for you…

It was sophomore year in college, the year where you finally know what is going on with school, how to get away with things and how to really have fun. I lived on the 10th floor of a tower that will remain nameless, and on that floor inhabited many of my close friends. We would hang out, sleep, eat, do or don’t do homework together, but mainly, we would drink. There are many stories from that excellent year, but this one takes the cake. It was early February, the weather was cold and bleak, usually how February is here on the east coast. This particular day was a Wednesday, a week before Valentines day, why I remember the actual date is beyond me. Wednesdays at my school was notorious for being a big party day, actually any day that ended in “y” was a big party day. On this day, there seemed to be a memo sent out to the tower to party it up…because it seemed that every floor was on one mission, to get wasted.

My friends an I were all  hanging out in the guy’s room. It was at the end of the hall and the perfect place for a party. Now, I was/am the type of girl who likes to keep up with the guys when it comes to drinking, to show that I am not a weakling. This evening was no different, I was drinking a shot of vodka chased with a whole can of beer. Now, after a few rounds of this, I was feeling pretty good. My best friend, Kayleigh said that it would be a good idea if we went to go visit Henry, my crush from upstairs. He lived directly above just one floor up. So Kayleigh and I were off…to the 11th floor to see what was happening.

The 11th floor was drinking as well, and so we chose to partake in their drinking activities. At this point, everything gets fuzzy, I ended up with just Henry and his roommate Mike drinking and passing out on their couch. Henry, being the drunk gentleman that he was, took me downstairs to my room, sat me on my bed, kissed me on my forehead and bid me goodnight. My roommate Ellie was just getting into bed at this point and said that I was wearing PJs’ when asked later…this will make sense in a bit. But at the time, my PJs’ consisted of pajama pants and a sports bra.

At some point after that, it wasn’t too long after; I woke up and proceeded to take off my pants…AND underwear. I then opened my door and stepped out into the hallway, into the stairwell, and onto the 11th floor. I stood there in front of Henry’s door, the boy who I had the BIGGEST crush on, wearing only a sports bra. Now, at this point any sane, sober person would wake up and realize what was going and proceed to hightail it back down to their room and go to bed, acting as if nothing had happened. Well, I am no such person. I raised my hand and knocked on the door (go ahead and gasp…this moment is gasp worthy). Henry’s roommate Mike opened the door and gave me quite the odd look, rightfully so, I wasn’t wearing pants. Yes ladies and gentlemen, my vagina monologue was there for all to see. I looked at him and said, “what? its cool to be naked.” I would like to point out again, that I was very very drunk and had been sleeping, and in my mind, I was dreaming. I pushed past Mike and stumbled into their room and face planted on their couch, grabbing a pillow at the same time to cover my nether regions. Henry, who was on his bed, not wearing his glasses, so his vision was quite askew, said, ” *My Name Here* what are you doing here?”

Mike, being the ever observant roommate said, “Umm…Henry, *My Name Here* isn’t wearing any bottoms.” he then turned to his drawer and pulled out a pair of shorts. Henry leapt out of bed revealing his red and white polka dot boxers and rushed over to me to see if Mike was truly telling the truth. When he was satisfied with the fact that I really was naked from the waist down, he grabbed a blanket and wrapped me up. Mike handed him a pair of shorts and told him to put them on me.

Henry said, “No way in hell am i doing that, if she wakes up and I am mid dressing her, she will freak out” As I would have if I had in fact woken up.

“Well, she can’t stay here. If she wakes up like this in our room…you think she wont freak out?” Mike rebuttal. Henry saw his logic and ran out of the room to get help…only in his red and white polka dot boxers.

Now, it was only a few moments later when I in fact woke up, still in a fog, wrapped myself up again in the blanket, stood up said good night to Mike and left the room, returning to mine and went to bed, locking the door. I didn’t hear the frantic banging on my door a short time after that, apparently Henry and Kayleigh along with her roommate Cally, had gone back to Henry’s room only to find out I had left. They hoped I was back in my room and not wandering around campus naked in a blanket

The next morning I woke up, all fuzzy and groggy. I thought to myself, ‘what a strange dream…‘ Then I pulled back my covers to reveal that I was only wearing a sports bra and the said blanket from that night was haphazardly  placed at the  side of my bed. The images from that night came RUSHING back, I instantly felt sick.  I ran to my bathroom and cried, I cried for the fact that the guy who I liked saw me naked and wasted…great. I thought it would be a great idea to write them a note asking them to not mention this to anyone because I didn’t want to be known as the girl with not pants. They kept their word, I was the one who then told everyone…after some time realize.

*Funny ironic turn of events…Henry, the guy who I had such a huge crush on…came out to me the next year. But he promised me that it wasn’t because of my pantsless escapade.*