Tuesday, September 2, 2008

How not to be helpful

My deepest apologies to my fellow bloggers. I didn't participate in blog day. I'm an utter failure. This saddens me deeply... but I am intrepid. Onward, Christian soldiers.

Also, I know I promised you photos and recipes from the housewarming party. I would have posted them by now had I not LOST MY COOKBOOK. Yes, I remember putting it somewhere *safe* for the party. Somewhere out of the way. Somewhere I could easily retrieve it after the party. Ok. Really. It has to be here. Somewhere. The house isn't that big. It will show up. And when it does, I will make good on my promise to share recipes. Till then, see some yummy photos in tomorrow's post.

Today I have something more important to share with you. Deep breath. It is one of those stories where the retelling enrages me as though It Just Happened.

It was Saturday. I wanted to sing. Really bad. I called my favorite karaoke buddy (Jessica of the robotic trash can debacle) and asked her to join me at our favorite bar for a night of singing and embarrassment. Of course, she obliged. She truly is the next American Idol.

That evening, Jessica, her newlywed hubby, Andrew, our friend Thomas, and I rolled into the bar and claimed a sweet table front and center... though our favorite table was taken. Our favorite waitress was no where to be found. The DJ was "the mean guy." This evening had disaster written all over it.

In a predictable fashion, I filled out song requests by such famed artists as Cyndi Lauper, Regina Spektor, and Hanson. On karaoke nights, I assume alternate identities in order to protect the innocent... and well... because it's fun to be someone else for a night. Tonight I was "Rickie." I ordered a Blue Moon and finished it quickly before Jessica and I sang the duet "Time After Time." Starr, a 60-something karaoke regular who always wears a fanny pack and tightly wound bun, really enjoyed our performance. I felt the night turning around. That is. Until. The. Incident.

I took my seat at the table. An hour or so had passed and no one from our group had been called up to sing. We were being punished because the DJ thought we were trying to hog all the fun when we turned in about a dozen song requests between the five of us. Screw you, mean DJ man! We came here to rock and roll!

I ordered a second Blue Moon, and took about two sips before It Happened. My denim jacket goes flying over my head, smacks me in the face, and lands on my beer--knocking my fresh beer all over the table, my skirt, and of course my jacket.

Once what had just happened settled into my brain, I turned around to see what the hell caused this misery. A girl in her early 20s sat behind me with short dark curly hair. She screamed, "It was on the floor! What was I supposed to do?!" Blink. Blink.

"It was on the floor!" she screamed again, as though saying it twice clearly validated her impulsive move that ruined my beverage, my outfit, and my evening. (Ok not really, but I like the dramatic effect.)

She refused to apologize. Her friends were aghast. "Why did you do that?" "What were you thinking?" "It was on the floor!" was all that crazy beotch could reply.

Yes. It was on the floor. I guess my jacket had fallen from the back of my chair. So instead of handing it to me or saying, "Hey! Your jacket is on the floor!" She threw it at my face and my beer. Now, instead of a slightly dusty jacket, I had a beer soaked jacket and a skirt to match. Good job, girl! Way to be a good little helper! Next time, let the drunk singers trample my jacket. I swear it will turn out better for everyone in the end.

Jessica, completely bewildered by what just happened, just kept saying, "I can't even process what just happened!" She was definitely more pissed off than I was. She is also a little more feisty than me, so I made her ask the girl to buy me another beer. Jess made eye contact with Curly and said, "I don't care why you did what you did. I don't care if you thought you were helping or something. Can you at least buy her another beer?" Guess what? She refused.

Her embarrassed friend immediately jumped up and asked what I was drinking. She headed to the bar and minutes later reemerged with a fresh Blue Moon for me. I thanked her and confided in her a secret.

"Hey. Thanks. This kind of thing happens to me all of the time. I really can't go out without getting a beer spilled in my purse or knocked all over me..."

Curly's friend again apologized as I sipped the peace offering.

A few minutes later, Curly and her friends were called up to the microphone to sing. As the opening of the song begins to play, she shouts over the mic, "I'M SORRY! OK!? I'M SORRY!" She said it in the most "I-really-don't-mean-this-at-all" tone of voice you have ever heard. I just nodded silently as I continued mopping up the spilled beer that I just realized had formed a puddle beneath me.

Curly's friend = Classy Lady

Curly = Crazy Crazy Face

To add insult to injury, mean DJ man didn't even let me sing Hanson.



Anonymous said...

i want to come karaoke with you...ok i lied, but it's only cuz i can't sing, i'd just embarrass myself. someone should have punched Curly in the freakin face ;) at least she had a decent friend! can't wait to see pics from your party

Anonymous said...

Girls like that give other girls a bad name. I don't suppose they were the ones sitting at your favorite table were they?

Anonymous said...

punching her would not have been out of line.

there is a 60-something woman at the bar we karaoke at that always sings 'my heart will go on' and a guy who thinks he is kid rock and climbs on the tables.

sarah marie p said...

Man oh man. That is def not cool. I'm sorry about Crazy Crazy Face but at least Classy girl bought you a drink. That sucks though! I would have been so mad at being spilled on I would have wanted to go home!

Lacey Bean said...

What a crazy girl!! If that happened to me, I would have been all up in her face, and definitely would have tried to get her thrown out of the bar. At least her friends had class... wow.

Heather said...

What an odd night! At least her friend was normal enough to know how to behave in public!

Anonymous said...

She sounds like a crazy weirdo! I'd have FREAKED.OUT. At least the decent friend bought you another drink.

Andrew said...

I found your cookbook. Maybe now you can cook something.

Kerri W. said...

Oh my gosh, this is the greatest story evarrrr. Or perhaps you're just that good at telling stories, because I sort of feel like I was there. :) This is so something that would happen to me, by the way, on one of my random-bar-nights with the bestie.

I can't believe that chick was such a little punk about your jacket! I love how she was all defensive right away, like, "IT WAS ON THE FLOOR, FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THINGS HOLY!" Little tart. You should've been, "WELL, YOUR FACE IS ABOUT TO BE ON THE FLOOR - WHAT NOW?"

Anyway, I'm finally getting around to adding you to my blogroll, because you're such a peach! Thanks for commenting on my delurking post the other day. :)

Jess B-Dubs said...

GREAT recount of that ridiculous debacle ... but now you've gotten me all riled up again! You're lucky I like you enough to defend your honor ...

Mermanda said...

Rialeilani, Come on! Sing! It'll be fun. I swear. A few drinks ease the pain.

Sara, Luckily for Curly, she wasn't hogging my favorite table. Or else, I might not have been so restrained.

Sarah, I am always scared that punching someone will either break my hand or the retaliating punch from the other party will break my finely sculpted nose.

Sarah Marie, Wow! The Sara(h)s totally love my blog. I am such a hit! :) I have left festivities before from being soaked with someone else's beer. I'd rather not talk about it.

Lacey, You need to join my posse. I need someone like you around for when things get weird.

Heather, Yes! Thank goodness for her friend. If it wasn't for her, Jessica might have gone completely CRAZY on her!

SleepyJane, I am just sadly so used to things like this happening to me that I couldn't muster the energy to freak out. Maybe next time.

Andrew, don't get cute. I found that cookbook fair and square.

Wishcake, does that mean you have been spilled on before by crazy faces too? I thought I was the only one so blessed.

Jessica, You have truly earned my affections. Never again will I betray your adorations. (What am I talking about?)