Tuesday, April 19, 2011

See Some, Get Some: Chronology of a Kickball Clusterf*ck

Editor's Note: This is the first in a semi-regular series from @Fire_and_Nice. If you would like to submit a story, review, or anything else, please e-mail us by clicking here.

I felt fine until I got in my roommate’s car at 10:00 a.m. this morning, then the nausea set in. This always happens to me; motion is my hangover’s nemesis. But it was all worth it and the sausage egg and cheese biscuit I got from the Dunkin Donuts on Lee Highway satiated that urge. Come away with me…

8:00 p.m. Saturday night: Text from Mary (names changed so as not to incriminate my teammates) says she’s on her way. We’re headed to Whitlow’s for a little social get together for our kickball team. The season begins this Thursday and my co-captain and I felt it important for us all to get drunk together before we tried to win a game.
8:14: Finish teasing my hair and applying my nighttime make up. Prop the boobs up, spritz on the scentz, convince Roommate to come out for a little while and hop in Mary’s car.
8:27: Phone call from Aaron, “where are you?” On the way. “What!? You’re not here yet you’re the captain.” Relax, I’m almost there get yourself a brewski, spit game at a lady, see you soon.
8:33: Play the “can we park here?” game? Nope, not there…or there…and not there until 1 a.m. Whomp. Shell out $3 for the parking deck that used to be $1. Fucking recession.
8:35: Walk toward bar in the rain with my white tank top. That’ll be a conversation starter.
8:40: Enter Whitlow’s and introduce the three separate friend groups who don’t know that they should know each other. Aaron meet Roommate, re-meet Mary, coworker Amy and your college friend Carrie meet Aaron, roommate and Mary. Everyone knows me; no one knows each other. This will get interesting. Mental note: make a flow chart.
8:55: First Blue Moon finished. Next please, Smitty. Reasons I love Whitlow’s: the bartenders are fantastic. I never have to wait long to be served. Kudos. Oh hey Mark and Rob are here.  They don’t seem drunk yet but I’m sure will waste no time.
9:30: Co-captain Kelsey, work bestie Sasha, her roommate Mandy, my favorite tall leggy blonde Cara all walk in followed by a group of dudes I’ve never seen before. Not part of team Hit It & Quit It. Quick scan: how many of you are taller than me? 2. How many of you are hot? 2. How many of the aforementioned are mutual? 1. Hey Cara, who’s that tall drink of hot coffee with alluringly sexy trapezius muscles? “He has a girlfriend.” Barkeep, another beer please.
10:00: The band takes the stage. Immediately I notice something is off about this female Van Halen. She is very tall. More power to you soul sister. But wait…her arms are very muscular. Her face is also very…striking. Then it hits me; that is no she…95% chance that lead singer is really a man, especially after she opens her mouth and her voice sounds like Lurch. I like this band already.
10:30: 3 Blue Moons deep. Too close to stomachache, I’m switching to Bud Light. I remember I have a coozie in my purse. Coozie, meet Mr. Light. I am also taking off my cardigan and putting my hair up so as to signal how “on” it’s about to get. Natalie and Chadwick show up after their little date. More introductions. Haaaaave you met Ted?
10:40: Hey Pete’s here! Where are your parents? Drunk?! Why didn’t you bring them out?
10:56: You know what I want? A shot. Who wants shots? EVERYBODY! I attempt to place an order for a few Grand Slams (a crowd favorite) when Mark and Rob stop me and decide to order a surprise. Minutes later I am handed a Jaeger bomb and I see car bombs waiting on deck. “It’s called a bear fight,” says Rob. Whatever. “See you tomorrow,” is my response. Commence chugging Jaeger bomb. Finish before all 3 boys. Cheers to the car bomb. Finish before all 3 boys. Sayonara.
11:37: Jimmy Eat World is being played. Mary and I rush the stage to pretend we’re 16 again and so I can get a good look at this singer. Yep, an Adam’s apple and biceps The Situation would be intimidated by. Or maybe I’m just watching too much “Californication.”
12:04: Yep, everyone’s drunk and picking tonight’s slam pieces. Dancing commences. Please remember, as you plan to shack up, that you have to play kickball together until July.
12:16: Enter bachelorette party. Penis paraphernalia everywhere. Wanna play the penis game? Of course we do. 5 of us take turns yelling. The bride loves it. Mental note: no penis garb at my hypothetical future bachelorette party.
12:30: Rob hands out so many bottles of Coors Light. I have four sets of blue mountains in my hands and so does everyone else.
12:41: “Where are we going after this,” someone asks. Pointless. Almost last call in VA and too late to really rage effectively in DC. Mark, Rob and Pete’s townhouse? Perfect.
1:10: Band plays its last song…no idea what it was. Time to settle up and head out.
1:15: Mark is bent over a trashcan outside. Kelsey, Amy, Rob and I are trying to catch a cab. We hop in a hybrid on the corner of Wilson and Filmore. Mark is in the front seat with his head out the window. Cue the sounds of splatter. Cabby kicks us out in front of Crate & Barrel…approximately 400 feet from our origin. “That’ll be $7.55.” Exsqueeze me? Here’s $8 have a shitty night. Mark throws up on Amy’s foot. We walk. Rob stumbles into a tree…for no reason.
1:18: Catch a cab 3 blocks down. “Does anyone have cash to pay for this?” I ask. “We’ll figure it out later,” Rob says.
1:25: Arrive at the townhouse. I run for the door. Amy asks why. I’ve seen this before. They’re about to ride and dash.
1:28: Plug in my iPhone and blast Glee through the house via my “rage” playlist. Ask Rob to make Baracks (Ciroc vodka and some kind of Moscato that starts with a B). Pete and Carrie have disappeared. Do Work.
1:55: I want to go to bed. Dear Mark, thank you for letting Amy and I snuggle in your bed while you took the couch. Her boyfriend and your girlfriend appreciate your chivalry.
8:01 a.m. Sunday morning: Where am I?
8:02 a.m.: Oh yeah. Mark’s bed. Who’s that next to me? Oh just Amy. Amy wakes up very concerned, “Where’s my dress?!” What do you mean where’s your dress? “I’m not wearing it!” well it probably slipped down – commence quick search under the covers – not there. Peculiar. Hey, at least I woke up with a topless girl next to me. Win.
8:07: Kelsey comes up the steps into Mark’s room. I am confused as I thought she slept in Rob’s room but apparently crashed on the couch using her raincoat as a blankie. Open Rob’s door, all I see is his foot. Pretty sure he’s naked under those covers. Close Rob’s door.
8:08: Amy’s dress is found under the covers at the end of the bed. She concludes she removed it mid-REM cycle. I hijack Mark’s mouthwash.  So does everyone else.
8:15: Everyone is up and we begin piecing together the night. The boys are still drunk. I need water and sustenance stat. Find banana and hydration.
8:30: I want to go home. Amy walks to the metro. Wished I lived closer to the Metro. Mark is passed out in his own bed. Rob says he’ll take me in 30. I get another glass of water.
8:33: I walk back upstairs. Pete and Carrie are upstairs in his room. Kelsey and Rob are on his bed. I’m going downstairs to watch SportsCenter.
8:42: I hear Rob’s door close.
8:58: I hear Paul jolt down his flight of stairs, close his door, and hop right back up the stairs to his lair.
9:01: Find ibuprofen in the powder room. I think I hear the faint sound of angels singing. The bottle appears to be glowing. I put on Dirty Jobs and fall asleep to Mike Rowe playing with bugs.
9:41: Awake. No sign of others. Text Roommate. Bribe her with breakfast to come pick me up.
9:48: Find Gushers in the pantry.
9:52: Roommate is outside. We go to Dunkin. I’m nauseous.
10:13: Home and in my own bed scarfing sweet coronary on a biscuit. Iced coffee to the face.
11:03: Pass out.
1:37: Wake up to text from Rob, a photo and the word “Oops.” Photo is of his Whitlow’s receipt…$205. $120 on beer alone. That’s 38 beers. “The three of us spent $405 last night,” he says of Mark and Pete. Is that a joke? Nay.
1:40: Begin filling him in on the pieces he has since forgotten. The bruise on your arm is from the tree you ran in to. “How far did we get in the cab before Mark got us kicked out?” Oh not far.

In summation, I think the selection of “Hit It & Quit It” as our team name was unknowingly apropos. Whitlow’s, you haven’t seen the last of us. 

@Fire_and_Nice is a NoVa native and proud towny.  Consider her your resident Carrie Bradshaw, just not as rich and more irreverent. The Ballroom's crass slipper, she is topically sassy and honest (to a fault?).  Can be found in her natural habitat: atop a chair/bench/table beating the beat and/or whipping her red hair back and forth.  In short: yes, this is real life.

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