Please bookmark the correct page at http://suzannadanna.net/ Princess of Irony

It was so beautiful we had to get out and… pee.

Issue Date: Friday, Apr. 08, 2005

I’m listening to techno, Shakira and Prince so… um the country and western music (see last post) is not responsible for the latest rounds of pop-up* memories that are running around my noggin like little dirty kids in a dusty driveway with Kool-Aid mustaches and sticky fingers from their melting ice-cream sandwiches.

*(Sing the jingle for Pop Up Video with me!)

I think the responsible parties would be the black Sebring and the little, black 4-banger Jeep Wrangler I saw driving side by side westbound on Frankford road yesterday afternoon on the way home from school work.

Actually, I know that they were, because at the light Coit and Frankford I snagged a napkin from under the mirror of my sun visor and started furiously scribbling notes.

I know I talk a lot about the college years like they are some lost episodes of fuckin Friends or something. And I know that I talk about my college girlfriends a lot of the time too. But the ones who held truck with me throughout the hazy and crazy after college but before I left Nac for Dallas years really take the cake…

Case In Point:

Sesil and Melanie were holding Girls’ Night at their condo and we were supposed to show up promptly at 6:30, bring either bread or salad to go with their Chicken Spaghetti and then we were going to drink a lot and maybe get into some trouble. Orrrr play cards. Whatever.

Sil and Melanie were expecting 12 women to show up and break bread in their tiny two bedroom condo and I had received a call earlier in the day. A call from Brad asking me what my plans for that evening consisted of.

Brad, Annie and I would get together periodically and hang out at my house (or his or hers) and watch movies, scratch backs, brush hair, do our nails, gossip, drink a lot (do you see a pattern emerging here?) or do other various things. My husband (at the time) worked nights (cop) and Brad’s brother was on the nightshift with my husband. Brad was not gay with the brushing hair, scratching backs and doing nails thing. Brad was smart, very attractive, tall and had that “shucks me?” quality. All of my girlfriends knew of Brad’s propensity to pamper and he slept with most of them… see? Smart that Brad… S-M-R-T.

I told Brad that Annie and I were going to be going to Sesil’s and Melanie’s for Girls’ Night, he asked if they were fixing their famous Chicken Spaghetti… I said, “Oh hell yeah.” Brad asked me to call him later because Greg and “girl” would be coming by his house.

Here is where you would cue an evil glint in my eye.

Greg (not Stacey’s husband… another cop on the night shift) and Sesil used to be an item. A Three Year Item. A living together, closeness with family and stuff item. And it ended poorly. Not on Sil’s side, she is a class act. But in my oh, so humble opinion Greg could have handled it much better. Greg was dating a peach (pit) of a girl that we called … “girl”. We had all been awfully nice, for an awfully long time and she snubbed us every damn time. She made going to any of the police department functions unbearably uncomfortable… scowling at anyone who smiled at her or Greg… ugh. She was rude, snotty and acted like a humorless bitch. She snubbed her nose when anyone tried to be genuinely friendly… ergo we dubbed her “girl”. She did not have the common decency to be courteous to any of us, so we wouldn’t call her by her given name. That cunt. Whoa. Sorry.

During the awesome chicken spaghetti dinner, I revealed to the ladies that Brad (everyone say Awwwwww) had called and that Greg and “girl” would be going over to Brad’s to watch a movie later.

Cue evil glint times eleven.

After we drank some beer and cleaned up, played cards and sang off key to the radio while looking at pictures, Brad called back and said, “The eagle has landed!”

Twelve women piled into three cars (one of them being Sesil’s black Sebring… I drove… ???) and we all headed to Brad’s. I called him to let him know I was on the way. I heard him tell Greg, “Sue is on her way over with some of the girls.” I heard Greg chuckle low and say, “Cool. Tell her to pick up some more beer if she’s bringing more than a few friends.”

Oh we brought beer alright. We brought more than beer.

Ya see, Greg and my husband worked very closely together but not closely enough that Greg knew that I hung out with his ex-girlfriend. My husband knew. Brad knew. And everyone else knew. But not Greg.

We pulled up, and Brad came bounding out of the house like Big Bird while twelve women were piling out of three cars in his driveway. He stopped mid-bound and said “Fuck” and spread it out for like a minute and a half. The smile stopping on his face.

“FuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuCK.”

We all lined up in front of him in three rows and then the fun of the evening dawned on him and his big goofy grin returned with a vengeance.

He didn’t like “girl” either.

We all followed Brad’s example and bounded into the kitchen though the side entrance, putting our beer in the cooler on the way into the living room as we went. Chatting happily and flirting with Brad. He led us into the living room which was not much bigger than a box with a futon, a fluffy chair, a coffee table and the television. Greg and “girl” sat hunched over on one side of the futon. As we filed in, circumventing the room, Greg’s smile, that was large to begin with… slowly faded. As soon as Sesil walked in he gave her a halted wave, “girl” gave him an “I HATE YOU” look and then looked at the floor for the rest of the time.

It wasn’t long before they left Brad’s place.

“Girl” spent months making everyone in that room uncomfortable, we made her uncomfortable just once, and it wasn’t even in public. But it still felt pretty good.

One More Case In Point:

Girls’ Night was usually every Tuesday night for some reason and it mainly consisted of me, Sesil, Siska and Annie (and sometimes Brad, heh).

The venues would never be the same. They could be anything from playing Atari or going bowling to a dollar movie. But mostly they started with the basics…

Stealing my husband’s Jeep from the police department parking lot.

There is just something about a steamy summer night in East Texas with the top off of a little Jeep Wrangler. I drove a Dodge Avenger at the time… it had some umpff, but the Jeep had… no roof. Perfect for howling and playing music loudly and …

And….

And…

Ok, if you’re gonna be a country girl, you have to be a country girl sometimes.

Here’s the story.

One evening after we stole the Jeep from the PD parking lot we got situated. We had our in the little (big) cooler in the back, iced to perfection and overflowing with beer. (What? Drinking and driving in Texas is encouraged… now someone give me a loaded weapon.) We each had a pack or two of our smokes of choice placed in various places in the Jeep for easy retrieval and lighting. We had our koozies so our beer would remain cold after it left the confines of the cooler. And we had our tunes. We were set.

We tooled around town, riding up and down Main Street, North Street, driving the loop. Then we went out to Jitterbugs and drove right past it on the packed sand and blacktop of their pseudo parking lot into a small break in the tree line.

The temperature dropped slightly because the trees were so dense. We followed the little sanded road for about half a mile, twisting a turning, up and down small hills and valleys. We stopped at a clearing that bisected our little westbound road to the north and the south. The pine trees were cut away so neatly and with such precision that it seemed a surgeon cleared them and placed the transformers every 500 yards or so.

It was so beautiful we had to get out and… pee.

We piled back in the Jeep and headed onward. The little path continued for a while then opened up into a sand pit with huge holes and commas and cliffs of sand piled up just aching to be jumped off of… or driven off of. We played in the sand pit for an hour or so until it got too dark and was no longer safe to be in a place where you didn’t know if the bottom of the path you were treading was going to fall out.

We headed back out the little pine tree lined path to get back on Loop 224. It seemed that we were in the trees for an awfully long time and I was getting nervous that we had taken a wrong fork in the trees, as there were several. Annie said she had to pee, and I wanted to get out before it got any darker. We made a compromise that only two half-lit wonderful girlfriends can make.

Me: “Ok, then what we’ll do is… you just hang your ass over the side and pee…”
Annie: “Awesome.”
Me: “Here’s a napkin… and I’ll go slow enough so you won’t fall out.”
Annie: “Rockin. And if I fall out… I swear I’ll kick your ass Sue… HEE!”
Rest of the Jeep: [laughing hysterically]

Annie, of course, doesn’t fall out and we have a story to tell her children.

And then we flashed truckers. The End.

End Note: Yes, I know I didn’t go into detail about stealing a vehicle from a police department. But… maybe next time. And then there’s the fact that I’m painfully cute and we had a scanner too. So, there ya go.

Questions? I’ll answer them.

Go.

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To understand this dear reward (above) at all, you must hie thee on and read gatsby’s grape ape entry and my comments.

And because of said comments he sent me my very own dream turtle in an email titled wee gift with these words attached, “my purple monkey is booked solid so i ordered you a tangerine turtle. hope he proves helpful.”

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