If only there was a way to save people from drunken madness, by way of lovely little Fiddler's Green...I love that place, but I hate drunken people...
Our carwash was successful, minus the few people that I was planning on having to support should I collapse and die of heat exhaustion...But I'm fine. We made about $130-$140, and so I'm really excited (That darling little Wal-Mart corporation is giving us [And 14 million other groups that waste their Saturdays with carwashes...] a price-match thingy, which means we'll have about enough money to put out our last issue and fight over 4 and 1/3 slices of pizza...Good times...). We had fun, I feel like a pink, dehydrated blob with nails poking into random spaces around my head, and in total logic, all of that should have constituted in my lack of Fiddler's Green-ness for The Wyndbreakers show tonight...
But if you thought that, you'd be wrong.
Very, very wrong...
We went out...I must again stress how much I disapprove of drunken nature...It startles me, and personally, it makes me genuinely ashamed to be around whoever I'm...Well...Around. But I got past it...I've seen the choir drunk before, so it wasn't all that new or startling an experience...Until they started playing "coaster games". Kelley perceives these to be simple gauges of how drunk the drunks really are...
They were pretty drunk...
So, I carefully moved my way out into the happy little stage area, and got to a chair that made me feel as if I was actually sitting on the stage, justifying the lead singer continuously kicking my chair and then pretending he knew nothing about it...And how can I forget the stunning rendition of "Happy Birthday" to the man who looked like he was somewhere close to the age of 612 (But still feeling 424 years young, baby!)...He "should have been dead already, he was so old", Natalie would say (And did a few times over the course of the morning...Lots of nasty guys honking at us like Orange Blossom Trail ladies...Fun.)
Yes, yes...Big fat pink men kicking my chair and singing "Mustang Sally", while my parents sit near-drunk and laughing their heads off with members of our church choir, who are in the middle of "coaster games", trying to prove to their peers how coordinated they can be when they're intoxicated, without the omission of quite a few Irish drinking songs...
If that's not a normal teenager's Saturday night, I don't know what is...