For those of you who play a part in my day to day life it is no secret to you that most of my blogs are inspired by :
A. The outlandish and overwhelmingly ridiculous things that happen in my life
B. The equally as insane and mouth-gaping wide open in astonishment occurrences in my friends lives. (My friends now call me to challenge my horror stories with their own..which is great because misery abso-FUCKING-lutely loves company.
C. Or something incredibly random that pops into my head while I am blaring Beyonce "Best I never Had" and singing with my Starbucks coffee up as my microphone only to look over and see the man in the 18 wheeler pointing at me while laughing hysterically. Glad I could make your day sir. I perform every Monday and Wednesday at 9:30am and 2pm from the Portsmouth to Dover exits in New Hampshire. Next weeks performance will include Kelly Clarkson's "Stronger", please don't judge me when I miss those high notes...I'm a blogger not a professional singer..despite the fact I practiced in my bedroom with my hairbrush in my underwear all week.
So here is an A story:
Everywhere I go something weird happens. A normal day in my life doesn't exist.
A couple of my friends and I toured the Redhook Brewery yesterday. I found myself at the bar (woah BIG surprise there) as we had an hour wait before the tour and I needed to drink to make that hour of being around food that I couldn't eat a bit more bearable.
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| I am salivating at the thought of this wondrous confection. |
The tour eventually began and I could barely listen to all the information about hops, pulping the beer, something about fermentation, and the difference between a lager and an ale. I just wanted some more beer. Then he started talking about
JELLY BEANS which immediately caught my attention. There is only one kind of jelly bean I like which is funny, because I mentioned it in
How to Not be an Asshole just that day. It is the super tasty-licious buttered popcorn flavored jelly bean.
Apparently most people in the world find this jelly bean to be horrendously disgusting! Something about some chemical that doesn't flow right with your palate. HEY WAIT! This man just insulted my palate!
While my choices in men are NOT EXACTLY STUPENDOUS..and my friends taunt me about this on a daily basis my palate IS COMPLETELY FINE. I am a GREAT judge of delicious cuisine, you barbaric periodic table loving tour guide man! Anyway I proceed to stand up for my favorite sugared bean and then ask him where his favorite bar is. I mean, I've been drinking a little, maybe a high school chemistry teacher is JUST what I need in my life. I go on to make some innapropriate jokes about Nut Brown Ale, take my souvenir tasting glass home with me, eat a steak burrito, take a nap, and get back up to go to the bars.
Of course some guys walk in...and I look at my friend, "Oh he's kind of hot!"..."Teen, they were on the Redhook tour with us today" ..."Really..maybe that's why he looked familiar" I am terrible with names/faces/caring about any man in general so it wasn't a big surprise I didn't remember them. Eventually we walk by them at the bar and one of them grabs me and begins screaming, "REDHOOK OMG IT'S REDHOOOOOOOOOOK!...GUYS, LETS DO SHOTS, REDHOOOOOOK YOU ARE BADASS!!!"
I am a celebrity!!!!! At a seedy college bar with some drunk fuck offering to buy me drinks. I would have been REALLY excited if I wasn't stone cold sober and FILLED to the tippy top of my tummy with digesting burrito-goodness.....or if I gave a flying rooster about drunk guys at the bar trying to get some.
Any who he proceeded to buy three rounds of shots in which I politely declined...and he still bought. He is incredibly friendly too. By "friendly" I mean he keeps showing me how everyone keeps bumping into him at the bar by rubbing his hands up my crotch and ass only to stop at my boobs. Yes, I am sure that 6' 5" 250lb football player just molested your junk and pinched your bum. Why stop at just before my boobs, you've already sexually harassed me 3 times...clearly there are no boundaries, just go for the whole she-bang buddy, this is the most attention I've had in weeks.
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| Tom also lets me stick my finger in his mouth. |
Then my friend gets the bright idea to suggest that I am not drinking because I am afraid of being roofied. To ease my "fears" before I even know what is happening Glen (yes that was his name) decides to grab my face, tilt my head back open my mouth with his fingers and attempt to pour his "roofied" drink into my mouth. I AM NOT KIDDING. I was literally in shock. No one has ever tried to stick their hands in my mouth at a bar before. (Well besides Tom but he has earned that privilege by letting me crawl into his bed pants-less at 6am when I'm sad, lost, wearing a tiara, and hungover. ) He then went on to continue to grope me, tell me he loved me profusely, attempt to throw his gum in a cup, struggle to get off a bar stool, and before I left for the night I received a marriage proposal and an attempt to make out with me...which I cleverly dodged by swirling my head into his chest like a fighting bull.
Why do I need a boyfriend when I can go to the bar and be drunkenly harassed by strangers. Seriously, it's just the greatest.
But in all honesty is there some sort of sign on my forehead that beckons these men to me? What the hell am I doing wrong here? SOMEONE send reinforcements! Everyone wonders why I prefer to sit on my couch in my sweatpants with a bottle of wine and Greys Anatomy.
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| I can't imagine why no one normal ever finds me... |
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Lots of excitement and happiness per usual,
Teen
