Blair and I have a rich history. He was my best bud back in Middle School, and the first person I experimented using alcohol with. We were destined to spend the majority of this night recollecting the milestones of our youth. The first few drunk nights were definitely talked about. Especially the getting caught story, which was fantastic and includes me tumbling through 60 feet of prickly bushes. There were also the Arizona/Colorado road trip visits. Aaron (my roommate, Week 4), Jancsi (Week 2) and Gomez (Week 6) went to mechanic school with Blair in Phoenix. During that time period, I was living in Boulder, CO attending CU. One spring break, I road tripped down there to hangout with everyone. Blair and Aaron also came up from AZ to party in CO. All of these things provided great stories. But THE story was yet to be touched upon.
The story of the dinner was simple. I just made some baked Salmon in lemon and garlic, with a side of fruit salad, a fried vegetable meadly and some nuts. Healthy and light. Blair and Andi were awesome and brought us two bottles of wine, and Andi made Erica some jewelry. They also brought us a plant. We finished off the meal with vanilla ice cream and chocolate fudge. Not bad.
Blair is a character. He is very funny and gets very animated when he gets on a roll. He fills out details with hand motions and does different voices, all for the sake of painting a picture. The art of story telling. He is one of the best I know. So, as we ate, and reviewed all our mistakes we made together growing up, we stumbled upon what we have been calling "The Kidnapped Story." Naturally, Andi and Erica wanted to her it. I stumbled through it poorly, and butchered the surprise. Like a hero, Blair took over and absolutely brought the house down...
THE KIDNAPPED STORY:
Back during the summer between sophomore and junior year of high school, I became friends with a group of girls. Tiffany, Amber and Heather. I spent the summer chasing them around, stirring up general boy/girl trouble, and having a good time. One night, our buddy Morgan drove Blair and I over to Amber's parent's house. She lived in the Northgate area, in the lower section of the home. Her parents were, of course, unaware there were boys over.
The small crowd, tucked away in her bedroom after sneaking in the window, became too loud. The mother was alerted of a disturbance and we heard her coming down the stairs. Panic ensued. Blair dove in the closet. I jumped under the bed, which was a low frame and smushing my face. It was not comfortable. Morgan, sitting on the window sill, just dove back out the window. The girls scooted the dresser over to block the lockless door. Which, of course, set off a red flag for Amber's mother when she attempted to open it.
The moody "what's going on here, girls?" phase was short lived. As Amber's mom looked out the open window and saw doughy-eyed, stuble faced Morgan, looking like a homeless pervert outside a high school girl's window. A peeping Tom. She screamed.
I remember barely breathing, laying completely still, rolling my pupils to the side and making eye contact with Blair, who had to the closet open just a crack to observe what was going on. And I remember Amber's mother belting out in a shrill voice "THERE'S A MAN!"
Morgan, like a true friend, turned and ran. Then got in his car, which was our ride, and drove away. Wisely so, because Amber's mom called the police. And shortly after, the police arrived. I was still under the bed, Blair was still trapped in the closet. Seeing police boots on the carpet while your face is pressed up against a box spring is not the coolest thing. But, much like the SPD normally does, the officer failed TO LOOK IN THE CLOSET OR UNDER THE BED while in the room for what seemed like at least 15 minutes, talking to the girls and examining the window.
The cop left. Our problems were over! Except the dooming words we were about to hear. Amber's mom was so freaked out, she was going to set the home security system. The girls were safe inside the house, so it was time to shut all the doors and windows and make it so a blaring alaram sounds if they open back up.
Blair and I... were trapped!
I spent that night under a bed, wide awake, waiting for my chance to escape. Finally, the mother went to work in the morning, the alarm was disarmed, and Blair and I bolted out the door sometime around 7am. We made it up to a 7-11 and I called my mom from a pay phone. She hadn't heard from me all night and was rather eager to hear my explaination. To her credit, she loved the story and gave us a total pass. And picked us up. I've always been pleasantly surprised by my parents when I am honest with them. The penalty is never too harsh.
So Blair tells The Kidnapped Story and knocks it out of the park. I am crying laughing so hard. With all the back-in-the-day talk going on, we decide Blair should visit with Aaron and Gomez, who were both working at the Redwood bar on Capitol Hill. Erica stayed behind to watch Lola, and I hopped in her new car and played designated driver for my old friend and his lady. We only stayed at the bar for one drink, and then a Dick's run was necessary. It was good to see Blair and Andi, and they were awesome guests.
Next week, we have another blast from the past, the drummer from my former high school punk band, John, and his longtime girlfriend Lauren. What makes this dinner party even more special is the third guest: John and Lauren's bulldog Cola. So stayed TUNED. The cutest dog party of all time, a Cola/Lola mixer, on it's way!
No comments:
Post a Comment