Sunday, Apr. 20, 2003 @ 12:29 am
I looked around the living room and counted 19 people, every face familiar despite the time and age. The parents were sitting sipping port in the Good Room and we had the hi-fi tuned to AM radio. Potato salad in a tupperware bowl sat on the table next to the chips and burgers.
When they brought out the candle-lit cake and the bucket of ice cream I glanced at the calendar to make sure that it was still 2003.
This party was the wind-down from a 48 hr stag party - the fiance of a girl with who I went to pre and high school (but never really talked with). So I'm counting the people in the room and counting the girls. I look at them. Why the hell was I invited to this thing? All the guys were on the stag and any girls are girlfriends of the guys. This is so strange.
The time warp continued: "So is your boyfriend still working on Sma11ville?"
I guess I really don't talk with these people much at parties.
Later he took my hand for me to touch his freshly buzzed hair (points for the stag rally) and then he accidently brushed his hand across my bare legs. Then he put his hand right back and left it there.
Really this whole situation was just strange. Then (ex)Dave is there sprawling across me, completely drunk. Nobody else is drinking hard.
I have to leave to go back to the farm and give a sick ewe more drugs. He followed me out onto the road and tripped off the curb. He grabs me and is trying to make me promise that I'll call him before the end of the month: "We need to have some quality D and S time."
I gently push him off and run down the street to horse around with the guys and an inflatable dildo. Our shouts of laughter echoed between the fancy pink houses. We gallop across neatly clipped lawns. Flash, and a digital camera ignites a suggestive pose and a smile.
Beep Hey, hadn't talked to you since Sunday night. Just wondering if you wanted to catch the game tomorrow night. Lemme know. Beep
Really, everything tonight was entirely strange.