Thanksgiving Week In Review

Long week of lite posting, but to be fair there was a lot going on in the real (non-cyber) world that I may now relay to you, the fantastic readers of suddenlystruttin. From turkey dinners and Wild Turkey toasts to late-night trysts to an evening of Korean BBQ and attempted Karaoke, much to discuss, and so we shall.

Tuesday Night
--------------------
Foolishly I called an old flame of mine, we'll call her Sharon, on Tuesday night. We live in the same neighborhood and I hadn't talked to her in about four months, so, I thought: Why Not? Well, after a night of too many beers and shots at a Logan Square speakeasy I remembered why not.

Sharon and I meet up at approx. 9 and the drinking and conversation commences. Plenty of catching up type talk, "What's new?" "How's the job?" "Your roommate sucks? I have a monster who lives in the apartment behind me." Et cetera, et cetera. Glance at the clock and it's suddenly midnight and then suddenly it's bartime. Sharon had driven to the bar and she (she's a wily one) coerced me into drunkenly driving (stupid) her car home for her. Now, Sharon is quite a tiny lass, my best estimate is that's she's 5'4" and around 115 lbs. and once we got in her car she threw all 115 pounds onto me and, literally, attacked me with her mouth and all of her feminine cunning. My first tactical blunder was, of course, agreeing to even drive her car and now I've got this much larger tactical folly crawling all over me. The good part was listening to "Daniel" by Elton John while, ahem, "waiting for the car to heat up." Nevertheless I was honor-bound to drop Sharon off and park her car, both of which eventually happened. Of course, upon parking the car, Sharon demanded that I crash at her place as opposed to stumbling the five or six blocks to my own apartment. And who was I to argue with such a rational argument? "Your apartment is closer than mine? I'd be stupid NOT to sleep over, right? right?"

_____________________________
SCENE MISSING
_____________________________

The Following Morning
I awake in a strange bed with very little memory of how I got there; even worse, my trusty large intestine has admirably created a tremendous amount of gas-[Nice work, digestive microbes!-Ed.] "Crap!"[Literally! Zing!-Ed.]"Where am I? Oh, that's right, I slept over at Sharon's And hey! There's her naked body right next to me. Grrreat" Shroud my nude self in a bedsheet and stagger to the bathroom which is conveniently right next to Sharon's bedroom. "Double Damnit! How am I going to be as surreptitious about this next maneuver as possible?" [Colons don't come with silencers?-Ed.] Bathroom door closes and locks. Agonizing minutes pass as I deflate with as little noise as possible the bloated balloon of pressure from my nether regions. A deep-sea fish being wrenched into the shallows does not have it as bad as I do in these moments. The bathroom has adopted the odor of an abattoir, secretly, I'm oh, so proud of myself for that feat! As I'm washing my hands I notice that there are no matches and no window and fear for whomever walks into the room next. I go to open the door and the door won't open. Try to push the lock open, nope! -Hmmm, this is getting awkward.- Try again, this time with some real force and effort, the door won't budge. Uh, oh. Begin pounding and simultaneously twisting on the door knob to get the lock unjammed. Nothing. Calmly knock on bathroom door hoping that Sharon or her roommate will hear me. Both of them come to the door. "Is everything okay in there?" "Yes, everything's fine except for the door not opening." "Ha, oh yeah, it's broken." "Are you kidding?" At this point I'm envisioning the Chicago fucking Fire Department getting called in and rescuing my sheeted idiot self from the rank odor and two fire fighters winning medals from surviving the stench. Sharon tries to do the "trick" with the credit card and it doesn't work, I commence to doubling my effort at hammering and twisting the door knob as she puts all of her marginal size and strength into it and finally the door opens.

Wednesday Night
----------------------
Thanksgiving Eve in the Burbs

After the uhh, events, of the previous evening I am in complete agreement with my friend Paul's idea of leaving Chicago early on Wednesday night and going to his hometown for the night to party with his family. We get into town and meet up with his siblings at their mom's home where a scant 18 hours later we'd surely be dining on the finest of feasts. We head into town and hit up a number of very crowded bars where flocks of people come up to my surrogate family regaling them with tales of high school homecomings and Friday night football games. I'm in my natural element when I'm surrounded with people I don't know whom I'll never see again, so, I just start picking people for information and then making up lies about how I went to high school with these people. The best part of the night was when at one point some douchey character approached Paul's cousin and myself and begins profusely apologizing for all of his friend's coats laying on our table at the bar. The douche wants to know how he can make it up to us and Paul's cousin gamely suggests drinks. Douche replies, "I don't buy drinks, but I do buy shots." So we ended up doing Jaegger-Bombs with the winner and no one was the wiser.

More to Come, or maybe not...