The Time Of My Life

Last night was incredible. I haven’t had that much fun since…well, probably since my 32nd birthday. An eleven year spread is an awfully long time.

Remember in my last post, I wrote about having friends with old money? My friend Will (whom I’ve known since kindergarten) comes from money covered in cobwebs. Last night, he was only slightly joking when he said his family started this town. They really kinda did. In spite of that, Will is an amazing carpenter/contractor (not a trust fund baby) who lives in a tiny garage apartment downtown.

Although our friendship is pretty shocking to all the other people we grew up with, Will is one of my dearest friends. We spent almost an entire year not speaking to each other, and I really missed him. He’s my dancing/karaoke/hanging out/help me paint buddy. When we recently started talking again, I told him that he owed me some serious dancing.

Because he’d had an ass-kicking week, he called me up last night and said he needed a beer and to get my ass downtown. I had the beginnings of a migraine and really wanted to beg off, but he said we would go some place quiet because he really needed to vent. I managed to rally, take a shower, throw on some jeans and a sweater, then picked him up. I always ask Ron if he wants to join us, and Ron always says no. While Ron is generally up for a beer, he’s not much into bar hopping. Okay, he’s not at all into bar hopping. Neither am I, really, because it means I have to get out of my pajamas and put on real clothes.

Will wanted to go to a place down the street from his house to get a martini. He described it as, “not a total dive bar, but it’s a bar that’s diving.” He was not lying when he said it would be mostly empty, especially for a Friday night. Considering that the plan was for Aubrey and her friend Laurel (both are 19) to join us when they got off work, we needed a place that would allow minors. After Will finished off his martini (I had wine), we headed over to his regular hangout which is essentially an open hut with a bunch of tables outside. It was a little chilly, so they had a roaring fire in a large fire pit, and everyone was gathered around like we were out camping.

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Since I’m gluten free, I can’t drink beer, but I can have cider. Last time we went out, I had Woodchuck pear cider, and it made me heave. I had bought some to have at home, and every time I drank one, I would get nauseous. When Will asked if I wanted a cider, I said no, but after I explained my odd Woodchuck reaction to the bartender, he suggested Fox Barrel pear cider. Not only is that stuff addictingly delicious, it doesn’t bother my stomach.

Aubrey eventually showed up, but without Laurel, who had smacked her head into the wine wall at work and just wanted to go home. Because the open hut bar knows Will and because it’s part of a restaurant, Aubrey had no problems getting in. She got there pretty late, and the place was already starting to close down. We decided we were hungry, and Will suggested a hole in the wall Mexican food place nearby that serves great burritos. We headed down there only to find they were closed.

Our second choice was a place that is famous for their tacos, and again, since it is a restaurant, Aubrey could get in. We didn’t know they had live music until we got there. The band was freakin’ awesome, and the guitarist was Mark Knopfler quality. Even better, they actually had pulled some tables back to make a dance floor. Woot!

I ordered a margarita for Aubrey (legal in Texas as long as she is within ten feet of me while drinking it), chips and queso, and Aubrey got a plate of enchiladas. I knew she wouldn’t eat her rice and beans, so I just scavenged off of her plate.

While we waited for our order, the band started playing “Fulsom Prison Blues”; Will cannot resist a Johnny Cash song. We were up and on the dance floor in seconds. Even though we hadn’t danced for a year, we were still pretty much in sync. Will is a fantastic dancer, and knows how to lead, so even though I suck at it, he still manages to make me look graceful and like I know what I’m doing.

After the one song, I was gasping for air. I am seriously out of shape! However, that didn’t stop me from getting back on the floor when they started playing, “Just What I Needed.” Will refused to dance again, so I danced by myself. I remember dancing to this song when we were in high school.

At our school, prom was nothing, mainly because it was a school sanctioned event. It was semi-formal and hardly anyone went. For us, the big deal parties were Senior Party. Back then there were two parties hosted by boys’ committees and two parties hosted by girls each year (now it’s only one each). Each committee was about 15 to 20 people who all paid a freakin’ fortune (whose parents paid a freakin’ fortune, I should say) to be on it. It was a HUGE deal to be invited if you weren’t a senior, and I somehow managed to either get an invitation or be someone’s date to all 16 Senior Parties in my four years of high school. They were all black tie events, and my mom made me a different dress for every single one. Unlike prom, there were no chaperones so these were seriously wild. Whether I went with friends or with a date, I always had a blast, even though the wildest thing I did was have rum and coke and make out with inappropriate guys. Mainly, it was all about the dancing.

After I sat back down from “Just What I Needed, ” the band started playing the opening riff to “Move It On Over.” Aubrey and I both jumped up from the table and started dancing, and somehow ended up with this on-the-fly dance routine that was vaguely reminiscent of dances from her Irish dancing days. We were criss-crossing in front of each other, then we’d spin and criss-cross again, and a bunch of people started clapping with us. Then Aubrey went on tip-toe and her feet were FLYING in an Irish jig. She could never move them that fast when she was in class, but she has more muscle than she did then, as well as more muscle control.

We ended up dancing to a few more songs before the band shut down, and made plans to go again next weekend. By the time we dropped Will off at home and then came home ourselves, I was exhausted, my head was starting to hurt, I had lost my voice from singing at the top of my lungs for over an hour, and we both smelled like the fire pit from the hut bar. It was all totally worth it, and I cannot WAIT until next time we go!

 

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