Monday, July 12, 2004

Roast Anyone?: PART II

Since there has been some hesitation on your part as the roaster, I’ll kick us off. Kennedy and Boyd: There’s no doubt that you two will remember this. I believe it was the summer 1994. Our preferred flavor of dance club was FISHDANCE in Lower Greenville. On this particular summer evening, as our group of sex-deprived yet cocky young men approached the entrance of the club, we saw a car full of 5-6 hot young women pull into the parking lot. Of course we performed the oh-so-cool ritual of verbalizing how “on” it was, followed up with the group dap, and concluding, of course, by “punching it”. THAT IS HOW COOL WE WERE!!!!!!!!!!! Now… Fast forward to e’rybody in da club getting’ tipsy. We were feeling the music, not really dancing with anybody so much as dancing with everybody. Our group of young men had somehow dissipated to just me on the dance floor, but what did I care? I was a confident (read “cocky”) young stud. How studly? I was busting out with the latest moves! The threads? The requisite jeans, Docs, and the topper… my sleeveless, hooded shirt from GadZooks. I wasn’t wearing the hood, mind you. I was all, “I’ve got a hood if I want it, but right now there’s no need. By the way, have you checked out my arms because my shirt is sleeveless… AND it has a hood!” I didn’t actually ‘verbalize’ that sentiment, but believe me when I tell you that it was ‘said’. This was obviously too much of a package to resist by anyone. Low and behold who comes over but one of the hotties from the car. “How’s it going?”, she asks. Playing it cool, I didn’t actually look at her but for a glance, “Sup?” was my articulate yet smooth reply. “My friend over there wants to know if you have a girlfriend.” Not knowing exactly which friend she was pointing to, I checked out the group of girls she came with. Not an ugly one in the bunch. SCORE!!!!!!!!!!! “You can either tell her I don’t, or you can tell her to come ask me and I’ll tell her I don’t.” That wasn’t my exact reply, but it was definitely as greasy and stupid as that was. So girl number one goes back to the group. I never saw / spoke to any of those girls the remainder of the night. OR SO I THOUGHT!!!!!!! About 5-10 minutes passed. I was like, “What the ‘F’!?!” Eventually I went back to my group who was at the bar. “WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING!?!” , was the collective gasp from the boys as I rejoined the pack. “What? What are talking about?” “Those girls were all up in your jock, and you just walked away!” According to the posse, the girl DID come back along with her friend. Not only did they come back, but according to the guys, I was the proverbial meat in their freak sandwich! I never felt / saw these two obvious class acts apparently dry humping me, but ten years later the guys still swear that this actually happened. Besides my outfit, how f-ing stupid was I?

5 Comments:

Anonymous Anonymous said...

Remember that time you threw yourself a roast and nobody came? You were such a loser!
- loving wife

10:29 PM  
Blogger S-n-Y said...

so...people ACTUALLY wore shirts with a hood, but no sleeves to clubs? When you wore this "shirt" would you put the hood on and shadow box as you walked down the sidewalk? “…Went the distance, now I'm back on my feet Just a man and his will to survive So many times, it happens too fast You change your passion for glory Don't lose your grip on the dreams of the past You must fight just to keep them alive It's the eye of the tiger, it's the cream of the fight…”
-Sean

8:32 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Think back to my sister's after prom party where there were more college students than high school. We had a fully stocked bar plus everything that people brought with them. (How we had the money to do any of this on our slave wages from Quad C, I have no idea.) It was beautiful summer night filled with the sounds of laughter, music, and April Gentry vomitting. I just so happened had a video camera also. As I was making my rounds, I hear an intoxicated Jenn yell, "Michelle, michelle come here." And just in- Jenn's wonderfully- I- love- the -camera fashion, she announces, " I would f*** you but I can't, because I'm married... to that wonderful man over there." And as she points, I pan to see Mikol with his pants down around his knees mooning another camera. Woww!!! You are a lucky woman, Jenn. The best part was the next morning when we watched the tape with my parents. I still have the tape by the way!

2:11 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

I REMEMBER THAT PARTY!!! Your mom made the best tex-mex dip-thingy.
Jenn

9:09 AM  
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9:09 AM  

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