Scott drive away, grumbling in an audibly inarticulate manner. Mike turned to face me in the back seat. He continued to fight a laugh. “Need some help there?”
A number of responses occurred to me. I selected “Yes please.” He reached for my headpiece but I shook him off. “I'll do that. Free my hands man.” As the car bumped along in the dark, he sought to find the tape edge. This task proved impossible in the meager time alloted him. Focused on our task as we were, it seemed like mere moments before we were double parked in front of the house where the party was located.
Outside, in the improved light, Mike was able to start removing the tape from my right hand. “The jocks had been generous with the duct tape and removing it took some time. Scott stomped back and forth. Angela ran up to us. “Are you okay?” she asked, genuine concern on display.
“I feel stupid,” I responded.
“I'm looking for new information,” she enthused. “You looked unconscious when they carried you out.”
“There's a reason for that,” I explained. “I was.”
“But you're okay?” she checked again.
“I think so, yeah. Physically anyway.”
Once that was communicated, Angela started laughing. During a brief moment when she managed to refrain from guffawing, she stated “I'm so glad; then I can enjoy this.”
“You do look ridiculous,” Mike again stated.
I could understand the concept. “I feel ridiculous.”
Scott's grumbling and pacing suddenly ceased with an explosion of vulgarities. In some language he expressed his dislike for this situation, what he thought of the marital state of the jocks' mothers when the jocks had been born, as well as where the jocks would find his foot in their anatomy. Scott was generally a mellow fellow but when he got mad, he tended to go full force. While he was not angry with me, I still shuddered from the force of his words.
Angela's laughter stopped. Her mirth was replaced be concern. Calmly she declared “I didn't call you in for trouble Scott. I knew you'd find Patrick before things get worse.” She didn't feel she had his full attention and sharply shouted his name to snap him into facing her. “I'll go back in and get his stuff. We don't need any trouble Scott.” Her eyes narrowed. “Got it?” He just grumbled. “Got it?” Scott managed to make some sort of gesture that looked affirmative. “Good.”
“You know where my clothes are?” I asked.
She smiled. “Not yet but I will.” Angela quickly posed seductively. In a higher pitch, simple sounding voice, she said “You guys 'r' so funny. What did 'u' do to that guy? Oh wow.” Just as quickly, she snapped back out of this mode and winked at us. “Five minutes, tops.” Confidently, she strode to the house.
Mike just stared at her. “She is so hot.”
“She would chew you up and spit you out,” I informed.
“What a way to go!”
Finally my hands were free from their furry prisons. I thanked Mike for the restoration of my dexterity as I had missed it so. The only other item that made sense to remove at this point was the headdress and I worked on that.
Have you ever had to remove an adhesive bandage from a part of your body where hair commonly grows? Peeling off the bandage is always bad enough but add in the reaction of that hair and it can be like torture. Remove it slowly? Remove it quickly? There's no painless option.
Duct tape is not really designed to be applied to the human body. Had it just been attached to my person, it might not have been that bad an experience. They had wrapped it around my head three times, grinding it in. I'm surprised it didn't affect my ability to speak more than it had. The first layer to be removed was bad but it was mostly attached to other tape rather than me. Once I got closer to the bottom layer, it became a greater problem. With a great deal of momentum, I quickly pealed it off. The yelp of pain that followed was instinctive. Through watery eyes, I looked down at the tape, seeing bits of my beard upon it.
This was the last straw for Scott. After a generic expression of anger, he turned and stomped for the house. Mike and I were unable to stop him.
This would be bad.
Saturday, August 28, 2010
Wednesday, August 25, 2010
Is Not in the Village
When I came to, I was cold and wet. It was dark. Panic briefly overwhelmed me as I didn't know where I was. I was also alone.
Once my panic began to fade, I decided being alone wasn't the worst thing in the world. During the period I was in the Land of Nod, I had been divested of the majority of my clothing, it being replaced by some brief furry garments. While much of my person was on display, my private areas remained so. I had some sort of furry coverings on my hands and feet, designed to look like paws. There was also a head covering that I would later learn resembled a cat. Another thing I was unaware of at the time was the legend across the back of my bottom covering that read 'Kitty Frou Frou'. In an effort to help these loose fitting garments stay on, they had been applied to me with duct tape, including a piece that acted as a chin strap for the cat head. Until I received assistance, I was trapped in this costume.
Even in the dark, its difficult to walk confidently when dressed as stupidly as I. Carefully, I walked around the dark park, there were too many trees for this place to have been anything else, and tried to orientate myself.
I didn't know how long I'd been out. I could sense the lake so I was in one of the many parks near the Lake but which one? Was I in the one off Lake Drive, not all that far from the party? Had they had the time and cruelty to drop me in Cudahy, all the way in a suburb on the other side of town? Until I saw something familiar, I had no way to tell.
As I walked, I pondered my current situation and what had led to it. Who could I blame for this? Myself? I hadn't wanted to come to the party so perhaps I instinctively knew this would happen and I was trying to avoid it? Honestly, no. I was lazy. I also suspected there would be jerks at the party, so partial credit I guess.
It wasn't Heather's fault, at least probably not. I didn't believe she was in on this. It just wasn't her style. Now I could see them explaining this to her as some sort of playful 'hazing' event to invite me to their group. I could see her believing that. I would disagree. This was beyond playful. Hiding your shoes is playful. Filling your shoes with pudding would not be playful. This was closer to pudding shoes than hidden shoes. Removing the duct tape from my beard was not going to be fun.
It wouldn't be the As fault. Abigail was not much of a schemer. While she may have had her issues, she was very sweet and not good with secrets. Had she been planning this, she would have said something. Angela would do something along these lines and would have assisted with it if it would assist Heather. Yet, she would not have let me be by myself. She would have been nearby, toying with me as a cat toys with a mouse. She would have made her presence known, in order to enjoy herself.
As I cleared the park, entering the neighborhood nearby, it occurred to me that I had no plan. Instinctively I'd been returning to the party but that made no sense. They would just further humiliate me there. Yet what else could I do? They had my pants, my brand new khakis!, with my wallet and keys and everything. I had to go back, but I couldn't go back. I was stuck.
“There he is!”
I jumped in surprise and fear, panic rising as the car quickly pulled up near me. My panic faded as a door popped open and the interior light came on. It was Scott and Mike. “Get in dude,” Mike encouraged, grinning madly. This made sense. I dove into the car.
Once my panic began to fade, I decided being alone wasn't the worst thing in the world. During the period I was in the Land of Nod, I had been divested of the majority of my clothing, it being replaced by some brief furry garments. While much of my person was on display, my private areas remained so. I had some sort of furry coverings on my hands and feet, designed to look like paws. There was also a head covering that I would later learn resembled a cat. Another thing I was unaware of at the time was the legend across the back of my bottom covering that read 'Kitty Frou Frou'. In an effort to help these loose fitting garments stay on, they had been applied to me with duct tape, including a piece that acted as a chin strap for the cat head. Until I received assistance, I was trapped in this costume.
Even in the dark, its difficult to walk confidently when dressed as stupidly as I. Carefully, I walked around the dark park, there were too many trees for this place to have been anything else, and tried to orientate myself.
I didn't know how long I'd been out. I could sense the lake so I was in one of the many parks near the Lake but which one? Was I in the one off Lake Drive, not all that far from the party? Had they had the time and cruelty to drop me in Cudahy, all the way in a suburb on the other side of town? Until I saw something familiar, I had no way to tell.
As I walked, I pondered my current situation and what had led to it. Who could I blame for this? Myself? I hadn't wanted to come to the party so perhaps I instinctively knew this would happen and I was trying to avoid it? Honestly, no. I was lazy. I also suspected there would be jerks at the party, so partial credit I guess.
It wasn't Heather's fault, at least probably not. I didn't believe she was in on this. It just wasn't her style. Now I could see them explaining this to her as some sort of playful 'hazing' event to invite me to their group. I could see her believing that. I would disagree. This was beyond playful. Hiding your shoes is playful. Filling your shoes with pudding would not be playful. This was closer to pudding shoes than hidden shoes. Removing the duct tape from my beard was not going to be fun.
It wouldn't be the As fault. Abigail was not much of a schemer. While she may have had her issues, she was very sweet and not good with secrets. Had she been planning this, she would have said something. Angela would do something along these lines and would have assisted with it if it would assist Heather. Yet, she would not have let me be by myself. She would have been nearby, toying with me as a cat toys with a mouse. She would have made her presence known, in order to enjoy herself.
As I cleared the park, entering the neighborhood nearby, it occurred to me that I had no plan. Instinctively I'd been returning to the party but that made no sense. They would just further humiliate me there. Yet what else could I do? They had my pants, my brand new khakis!, with my wallet and keys and everything. I had to go back, but I couldn't go back. I was stuck.
“There he is!”
I jumped in surprise and fear, panic rising as the car quickly pulled up near me. My panic faded as a door popped open and the interior light came on. It was Scott and Mike. “Get in dude,” Mike encouraged, grinning madly. This made sense. I dove into the car.
Monday, August 23, 2010
Fails to Take a Stand
Hindsight is a magical thing. Through the lens of hindsight we can see all the points where we failed and what we should have done differently to have had success. The 'if I had only' game is only useful if its used as a learning experience, not if its as a wistful look at how good life could have been. Sometimes looking at the situation via hindsight doesn't change things. You honestly look at the situation and the information you had at the time only to realize that, as dumb as that move might have turned out, it made sense at the time.
That's what happened on this situation. I had no good reason to not join this group in conversation. Had I not joined the conversation, I would have looked like a bad guy. They looked normal enough. Bob liked my beard. I joined them.
I remained the outsider. They all knew each other and boisterously mocked each other in the good-natured way that men do. After a few minutes of listening to them, trying to follow the discussion, and figure out who was who, it was noticed that I lacked a beverage. This was considered a problem and a beer was pushed upon me.
I did my best to refuse the beer. Don't get me wrong. I'm not trying to say I was some innocent that was concerned about the legal age and how I had yet to reach it. I had consumed alcohol before this time and would yet again before I turned 21. That was not the reason although they thought it was. I was driving. I had others with me and their expectations to meet. Mostly, I wasn't in the mood to drink with them. They weren't my friends. I wasn't sure I even liked them. I didn't even want to be there. I was not keen on the idea of making booze buddies.
But they pushed and pushed me. Eventually I accepted a beer with the intent of holding it or nursing it, just to shut them up. They continued to be obnoxious about it so, further succumbing to peer pressure, I slugged down some of the contents of the plastic cup.
It didn't taste right. I knew what beer should taste like and this wasn't it. My concerns about the taste faded as I quickly and uncomfortably became lightheaded.
Then I passed out.
That's what happened on this situation. I had no good reason to not join this group in conversation. Had I not joined the conversation, I would have looked like a bad guy. They looked normal enough. Bob liked my beard. I joined them.
I remained the outsider. They all knew each other and boisterously mocked each other in the good-natured way that men do. After a few minutes of listening to them, trying to follow the discussion, and figure out who was who, it was noticed that I lacked a beverage. This was considered a problem and a beer was pushed upon me.
I did my best to refuse the beer. Don't get me wrong. I'm not trying to say I was some innocent that was concerned about the legal age and how I had yet to reach it. I had consumed alcohol before this time and would yet again before I turned 21. That was not the reason although they thought it was. I was driving. I had others with me and their expectations to meet. Mostly, I wasn't in the mood to drink with them. They weren't my friends. I wasn't sure I even liked them. I didn't even want to be there. I was not keen on the idea of making booze buddies.
But they pushed and pushed me. Eventually I accepted a beer with the intent of holding it or nursing it, just to shut them up. They continued to be obnoxious about it so, further succumbing to peer pressure, I slugged down some of the contents of the plastic cup.
It didn't taste right. I knew what beer should taste like and this wasn't it. My concerns about the taste faded as I quickly and uncomfortably became lightheaded.
Then I passed out.
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