…my husband and I will put on our party clothes, the baby sitter will be here to watch Dawson and we’ll have an amazing dinner (rain check from the Anniversary Date that was canceled). And if we’re lucky, the Doodlebug will be asleep when we arrive home. You know…because I’ll have had a few drinks and I will not want to deal with a little boy who likes to stay up past his bed time.
Seven thirty really needs to hurry up.
Last night, I was out on the town with my sister Rachel and my cousin Meghan. Rachel and Meghan are both 21 years old and love to have fun. Didn’t we all at that age?
We started at Big Todd’s Rumble Inn, a biker-themed bar in Stevens Point. Hell, it is a biker bar. Last night had a very familiar crowd in the bar. I saw 4 different people that I worked with at 3 different jobs. I hadn’t seen these people in years and they looked as though they’d just crawled out from under a rock.
I saw two women that I worked with at South Point Restaurant. These women were dressed in the most awkward clothing. One in a tube top and a long white skirt with cowboy boots, the other wearing what looked like a bed sheet. Or a tent. I couldn’t really be sure.
They saw my sister and me (at one time, Rachel worked there, too) and started yelling, “Oooooh, my gooooosh! You two look sooooo grown up. What are you up to? Talk to me?” as they spilled their drinks all over my purse. The damn thing now smells like cheap whiskey and Squirt. Yuck.
I never cared for these women because they were pushy, sleazy and very forward. By forward I mean they were not afraid to say anything no matter who they hurt or what the repercussions were (damn, this sounds like other people I know). After smiling and nodding for 10 minutes and making the bare minimum of conversation, I told Meghan and Rachel to suck up because we were leaving.
We headed to 2nd Street Pub next, formerly known as Frank & Ernie’s my father’s bar. He’s leasing to Holly the One Eyed Sailor and thank God she wasn’t there. I really don’t care for her and avoid her whenever possible.
We sat on the elbow of the bar where our family picture is immortalized beneath a coat of polyurethane. I started to reminisce the days gone by. The days of bartending. The days of being carefree. I missed all the old customers. “Uncle” Bernie, Dave Schelke and so many more.
Why didn’t I appreciate these people more when I was around them? I could kick myself for not spending more time really getting to know them. Was I so busy, wrapped up in my friends, gossiping with them instead of being kind and courteous to my father’s patrons? (And look at all the time I spent catering to my friends! What a waste!)
In the midst of my personal boo-hoo session, a tall, middle-aged man sat next to me.
“Hi, I’m Jeff, Holly’s nephew.” he said. My first instinct was to get up and move to a different seat, but I noticed there were no other available bar stools. I decided to take my own advice and give this guy the benefit of the doubt. He must be nice, I thought.
“Hi, Jeff, Holly’s nephew. I’m Dana. This is my cousin Meghan and that’s my sister Rachel.” I replied.
“What do you girls do for a living?” he asked.
“Well Jeff, I work for Travel Guard.” I told him.
“I’m a stripper.” said Rachel. And I burst out laughing. Uncontrollable laughter. It felt good. To have a deep belly laugh after all the days of tears and anger, was a gift from God.
“She’s not a stripper.” I said. “She’s lying to you.”
“Ooh no. She works at the New Yorker.” Meghan chimed in.
“You’re making me look like a liar, girls!” I said.
Jeff proceeded to swoon us with his charm and his love for Metallica. He asked me if I’d ever dance to whatever god-awful song was playing.
“I don’t know how to dance to this.” I said.
“Oh sure you do, it’s like this.” He demonstrated his slick dancing moves which looked more like muscle spasms and knee-jerk reactions similar to having a doctor check your reflexes. I couldn’t stop laughing. Rachel and Meghan were in stitches. At that moment I wanted to hug this Jeff. I wanted to hug him for being himself. For not caring what anyone thought of him. For really putting himself out there. He didn’t give a rats behind if we thought he was crazy. Even if he was crazy, I didn’t care. At that moment I started to tear up.
“What’s the tears for? Is my dancing that bad?” he said as he sat back down in his chair.
I shook my head and said, “Oh no, no. That’s not it. Thank you for brightening my night.”
Jeff introduced us to his friend Nate. Turns out “Nate” was Nate Garski, a scrawny kid who’d ride his bike all over the neighborhood and he’d come into the bar to order food when my dad ran it. He looked so different. He was taller and more mature looking and I started to feel old.
“Oh my gosh, Nate. You grew up! I feel so old!” I said.
Nate told me he was 23 years old and followed that statement with, “I’m gay.” Which stunned me. Not something I expected to hear in a conversation! He then told me he lives in the area and comes into the bar every once in awhile.
Jeff proceeded to guess my age and his method included me putting my hand over his heart and closing my eyes. I think he was just being silly or flirty. It was a riot.
“You’re twenty-four.”
“No, I’m older.”
“Thirty-two.”
“No! Younger!” and I removed my hand.
“Hey! Wait! I need that!”
I just kept laughing and told him he just wanted me to keep my hand on his heart. He laughed and agreed he was just being a dork. I nodded because I’m a dork, too. It was at that moment that Jeff’s girlfriend Patty came in and started screaming at the top of her lungs that someone broke into her house and stole her clothes and photo albums but not her Harley. I had to fight back laughter. Clearly this women was crazy drunk and obnoxious. Jeff saw me smiling and he rolled his eyes in my direction as Patty told him, “Wipe that fucking smirk of your face.”
I knew it was time to go. But I still have to say thank you to Jeff, Holly’s nephew. Wherever you are, you made life just that much better.
We then left our old stomping ground and headed to Partner’s Pub. Packed. As. Usual. Too many college kids. Too many loud, drunk 21 year olds celebrating their birthdays. We spotted friends of my husband, Troy, Aaron and Dave across the bar and waved, but I’m not certain they were coherent enough to wave back.
After Partner’s Pub we headed to Post Road Pub (lots of Pubs in this town). PRB is owned by my cousin Kevin Tepp and his wife/fiance/significant other Mary Gerritts. They were just a bit drunk but bought us a drink and we were able to play the new internet jukebox. That was fun. After a few shots and discussions about our lives and relationships, we went to Jeepers Gin Mill. We didn’t stay long because some pervy guy was hitting on Meghan.
We walked down the road to Sandy’s Bar and I had a soda because I was driving. My father’s best friend Mike Kenowski was there. He is in town for a wedding and came over to talk to us. Mike and his family live in Maggie Valley, NC. He told us how he was going to visit with my Dad today and that Aunt Irene (his mom) is still hanging in there; still playing the game of life. Irene’s husband Greg passed away a few years ago. We all still miss him.
It was 1:30 before I knew it and told the girls to slam their drinks so we could go home. I had to work at 8 a.m today. Five hours of sleep just isn’t enough anymore. I’m not 21 anymore, and it shows.
I planned to come back from a wonderful weekend of beach going to tell you all about the fun in the sun. Turns out, the weather was horrible. Just horrible. The one 3 day weekend I have for a long time and the temperatures dropped to 68 degrees. Not exactly warm enough to take a 21-month-old to Lake Emily.
Friday after work, my husband FINALLY called to say he was alive and fishing his rear off. He and his pal Dan caught some trout. The good news is I didn’t have to eat them. I’m not a big fish fan.
Dawson and I had Little Caesar’s pizza delivered because I didn’t care to eat left over lasagna (again). After dinner we went outside on the swing set. I can never get that little bug to come back into the house afterward. If he had his way, he’d eat and sleep out there on the swing. I finally managed to bribe him with ice cream and then put him to bed at about 8:30. I tried to read my book for a bit, but I ended up crawling into bed. Little Murphy crawled in after me and did his usual “turn three times and lay down” bit.
Saturday morning, I awoke to Dawson yelling “Mumma” over and over again from his crib. I went into his room to check on him and he smiled wide and said, “EL-O Mumma”. Which I think was “Hello”. We had Berry Burst Cheerios for breakfast and the Doodlebug gave half of his bowl to the dog.
“What are you doing?” I asked Dawson.
He looked at me, looked at Murphy and then back at me and said, “Mumma, dis a bow.”
I almost passed out, that was his first sentence! “Yes, that is a bowl.” I said to him. “But we don’t give our bowl to Murphy.”
After breakfast I turned on the weather channel and saw that the temperatures wouldn’t be higher than 69 degrees. The sun was out but it definitely was not warm enough to go swimming. I was rather sad. I suppose I could have watched the weather channel on Thursday or Friday to know this, but I was just too busy.
Instead of the beach, Dawson and I went to some rummage sales with Grandma J. and Uncle Frankie. It was kind of fun. My mom got some nice antique bargains and I found Dawson some summer clothes that he can play in and ruin for all I care. I love the bargains! After a few hours we decided to have lunch at McDonald’s and then we went back to my mom’s house to just hang out.
My brother Frank and I went four wheeling to the Wisconsin River by our parents house. I took Dawson along and we saw lots of wild life; including a snake (ICK) and two baby racoons! I took some pictures! I have a new album. Dawson thought the racoons were puppies. I had to prevent him from going any closer, for fear of him getting a rabid bite (and I was still creeped out by the fact that snakes were near by).
When we got back to the house my Doodlebug was so tired. He ended up staying overnight at my parents. He just loves it there! I went home to let Murphy out to pee and then I went across the street to my neighbor’s house. Rick and Denise have a daughter Keli, who graduated high school and her party was that night. It was so nice to be out without having to worry about my son or my husband. The party was a ton of fun. We sat by the fire pit and had a few drinks. Keli had tons of friends over and they happened to be drinking alcohol they brought and at 1:30 the cops showed up. Every underage kid scurried to the basement except four and they got a citation of $250 for underage drinking. I felt so bad. None of these kids were driving home, they deposited their keys at the door. Needless to say I ended up partying with my fun neighbors unti 4:30 in the morning — Yes, Dana was a wild girl.
Sunday, I recuperated from the hangover and my parents dropped Dawson off at 11 a.m. and he took a nap right away so I caught up on my sleep. Doug arrived home from his trip at 2:30 in the afternoon and we all went out for McDonalds (again!) for dinner. It was a pretty good weekend.
Not too exciting. But hey!! It was good either way!
Anyone else do anything fun or crazy??
