August 3, 2013 7:18 am
PS. I know in the throws of wineo I wrote you. I don’t have the balls to read what I said writing you from the cab. So if ya would just… let this one slide, I’ll owe ya forever. All I know is I called Melanie a red neck. I can’t find my freaking Dooney and Burke limited edition wallet * lol Lord knows what I said to you! It was Chardonnay! Little, tiny, innocent looking bottles in a friendly ice bucket! How could I be so foolish? Hard liquor only! I would facepalm myself but I still cant even FEEL my face. ***Melanie just texted me, she found the wallet, thank God.**** I’m going to try and take a bath and sober up and not drown.
The Bar Spot is in the mall right near the house. Melanie and I are neighbors so this is a convenient place to go. We went to $5 dollar bucket of wine night ( little wine bottles in a bucket ). We shared chicken nachos. I haven’t been out in a month! Well, the concert doesn’t count. We had a shot of tequila and two wine buckets between us. What we discussed that night is confidential ( meaning except for the people within ear shot as we got louder, and louder and louder). We were not in scouting mode, this was a vent night. I was giving Mel an update on the dating life and she was telling me about hers. When Melanie gets ” to drinkin” she unveils an equally “Gone with the Wind” accent to match her name.
We were outside smoking a cigarette and saw these hot bodied tatted up bikers. I tore into her for not teaching me how to date ” amongst her people”. I chided her, saying she never took me up on my offer to teach her Spanish. The least she could have done in the years we have been friends, is teach me how to tease my hair or bedazzle something! For some reason she did not comprehend the seriousness in which I felt she proved to be a poor hostess in introducing me to a Southern de(man)graphic. I even suggested if we were ever to set foot in a Country where I knew the language I would not so much as translate for her! HUMPH!
The conversation ended as we saw the bikers watch…I mean walk… we were watching them walk… I’m sorry, I’m getting distracted just thinking about it. Anyway, God bless those leather clad, tight jeaned men.
One was walking out of the Bar Spot and passed us, adjusting his zipper ( it was obvious he was inside using the bathroom). Melanie touched my arm and said ” Ohh. My.” I whispered reverently, “Mel, is that a Freedom Fly?”