I don't usually read interview style blog posts on other people's blogs because they tend to spiral out of control and are not often very entertaining. I promise you this post is not like the others. Please try to stick it out to the end. You will be richly rewarded for your patience.
Mermanda: So, Matt, this time last week, you were getting ready to begin the Andrew Bachelor Party Extravaganza Weekend in the woods. Let's start by talking about the beer.
Matt: Sure. We had the spectrum. Two cases of Miller Lite, two cases of Yuengling, and a case of Corona (with requisite limes). And our surprise guest, Chris B., added a sixth-keg of East End Big Hop to the mix, which Andrew seemed to relish. But... we still ran out by mid-day Saturday. Haha.
Mermanda: And the fact that you blew through all of this beer by day two in the woods... I would call that "a drinking problem." Would you agree?
Matt: Haha. Well... it was a special occasion. But I'd say we went through a lot of beer. Yeah, we all had a drinking problem for the weekend. That's a fair statement. Haha.
Mermanda: And I heard from Walter's wife that there was "a box of liquor" involved. Was the box of booze totally consumed as well?
Matt: There was a magnum of rum that was untouched, but we polished off a bottle of gin, a bottle of Woodford Reserve--a really good bourbon. There was supposed to be tequila, but someone (me) screwed up and didn't bring it. There was to be a lot more liquor involved, but it turned out that more would have been disastrous.
Mermanda: Yes, I think this is a good segue into "the incident." Let's hear in your own words about the bloodshed.
Matt: Don't you want to hear about the beautiful scenery? Or about all the tasty food we ate?
Mermanda: That doesn't make for good blog material, Matt. My readers want gore. They are animals.
Matt: This interview has taken on an investigative tone. Your readers... they thrive on conflict? Okay, the bloodshed...
Mermanda: Yes, go on.
Matt: Well, as stated, we were running dangerously low on beer. It was early Saturday evening... well, it was actually 8 p.m., but we were keeping weird hours. Anyway, It was determined TB and I were in a good position to go refill the stockpile of beer. Prior to grabbing the keys and heading out, Andrew approached me, with a beer bottle in his hand. I felt as if I'd taken on the role as the father figure during this trip... because Andrew approached and innocently asked, "Hey, Matt... would it be cool if I broke this beer bottle?"--as a child would approach his father for advice. I, perhaps too sternly, chided him. "Andrew! Do NOT break that beer bottle!" "In fact, I'm taking it from you."
Mermanda: Can I ask what kind of beer it was? I really want to paint a picture.
Matt: Probably a Yuengling. I remember brown glass.
Mermanda: Go on.
Matt: And I did. I took the bottle from him. He seemed quite happy with my decision. As if pleased I had taken away his choice to break the bottle.
Mermanda: Is this starting at all to feel like giving witness testimony at a criminal trial?
Matt: Haha. A bit.
Mermanda: Because I'm feeling like a member of the jury right now.
Mermanda: Ready to hear about a gruesome murder. I'm hoping it doesn't take that turn.
Matt: No, no. Not yet, anyway. So, I hugged Andrew, told him I really wanted him to have a good time, but that breaking glass was a bad idea. And then TB and I went for more beer. It was a pleasant drive through fog covered hills. No traffic to speak of. Just a nice evening ride in the country. Probably took about 15 or 20 minutes to get to the distributor. Matt's Beer Barn, I believe it was. We got two more cases of Yeungling and a case of Straub.
Mermanda: Probably wouldn't have been my first choices, but I respect your taste. Go on.
Matt: I like it for its no added salt, sugar, or preservatives. It's light, but fairly tasty. But I digress... TB and I returned to the cabin. It couldn't have been more than 40 minutes after we had left. And as I pulled up the drive, I spied Locke standing on the front porch... just kind of sullenly shaking his head. As if to say: You don't want to know what happened here. And it all went downhill from there. At first, I noticed a bloody rag sitting on the porch. I then gingerly entered the cabin.
Matt: Yes. Very. Everyone seemed stunned. Some people were laughing.
Mermanda: Not really sure what you will find. Maybe a corpse?
Matt: But most people who were sober enough to care seemed horrified. Basically there were shards of glass everywhere.
Mermanda: In the cabin?
Mermanda: That's just in bad taste.
Matt: Terrible taste. Oh, and some blood was on the cabin floor.... Between Locke and Walters, I formed the details into a coherent plot. It was clear to me that BJ was the drunkest person at the party.
Mermanda: Let's take a pause here--and talk about BJ for a second.
Matt: Haha. Go ahead.
Mermanda: Do you recall Walters' wedding?
Matt: I do.
Mermanda: Do you recall... the parking lot? Perhaps two people nuzzling on the pavement. Nuzzling, cuddling, however you want to say it.
Matt: It rings a bell. Was BJ one of the nuzzlers? I feel pretty certain that BJ was trashed at the Walters' wedding.
Mermanda: It was BJ. And me. And everyone was very concerned and confused.
Matt: Oh, wow.
Mermanda: I'm telling this because I have an obligation to my readers. An obligation to the truth, Matt.
Matt: Yes, the truth is important.
Mermanda: Anyhow, I think BJ and I shared a smoke, and gazed at the stars.
Matt: Yes! I do remember this now.
Mermanda: Surrounded by a crowed of befuddled wedding guests... and a drunk Andrew, who was not quite sure what to think, exactly. Except that maybe BJ would be going home with us. Anyhow, back to the cabin.
Matt: Yes, BJ was really drunk. And except for when he's sharing cigarettes with attractive young ladies, he can be quite confrontational. Like, EXTREMELY confrontational. Walters observed that Andrew--on the other hand--is very open to the power of suggestion when he's drunk. Such as: "Andrew, take off your pants!"
Matt: And he'll almost certainly take off his pants.
Mermanda: So trusting.
Matt: Anyway, I attribute the drunkenness of Andrew and BJ as leading to a sort of escalation of confrontation. I don't know how it happened. But probably at BJ's egging, Andrew retaliated. A bottle (or more? there was just so much glass!) was broken inside the cabin and BJ and Andrew started wrestling. In the glass! You might interview Walters or Locke. They were eyewitnesses. But rest assured, returning to the cabin was a sore sight. Not what I hoped for. As I unloaded the beer into the fridge, I recall scolding Andrew. "Andrew! How dare you break that bottle after I specifically told you NOT to?"
Mermanda: How did he take the scolding?
Matt: Haha. He was contrite. Seemed sad that he had let me down. A few remarks were made how as soon as I left the party, Andrew seemed to go crazy with freedom. Haha. As if I had been really hard on him--not letting him have fun.
Mermanda: Well SOMEONE had to be in charge. God knows what else could have gone down without an authority figure present.
Matt: Also, in those 40 minutes, I'm told that neighbors yelled over to us, "Put your pants on! There are children here!" Pantless beer pong is a fine art form in those parts. I'm surprised the neighbors didn't appreciate that.
Mermanda: I'd like to hear about the injuries.
Matt: Andrew apparently had shards of glass in his elbow--and was bleeding a lot from that.
Mermanda: I packed him a first aid kit. Do you know if that was utilized?
Matt: Haha, yes! In fact, I was going to say that in your best move of the weekend, you insisted that Andrew take a first aid kit with him. Good vision on your part.
Mermanda: I know who I'm dealing with.
Matt: Right. It was used. I think TB helped remove the glass and apply a bandage.
Mermanda: So all in all, fun was had, blood was bled, and clothes were shed.
Matt: Yeah, the weekend was great. Weekend of blood, sweat, and tears of joy, and TB said.
Mermanda: Haha, quite appropriate. My final question: How do you think Andrew's bachelor party will compare to my bachelorette karaoke caper?
Matt: I think you and your ladies will manage to have as much fun, but with less blood overall.
I cannot in good conscience wrap up this blog post without mentioning the other defining moment of the boys' weekend in the woods. We'll call this one "the golf car incident." Here to tell the story is Walters, groomsman extraordinaire.
Walters: The important part of the golf cart incident, is not just that Andrew drove square into a tree at the golf carts top speed--causing beer to spill everywhere and doing actual damage to both the tree and golf cart. No. The important part of this story is the neighbor who witnessed the accident and ran at Andrew full speed to have the following exchange:
"You crashed that golf cart into a tree!"
"Yes, I did. I am really drunk"
"NO. YOU ARE AN IDIOT!"
"Umm, yeah, I realize that. Didn't you just see me crash that golf cart into the tree?"
At that point, the jerk removed all of our belongings from the cart and drove it to the clubhouse. (Rightfully so.)
The owner not only brought the cart directly back to us and allowed us to keep golfing on his course--he basically tore his "neighbor and employee" a new asshole. He yelled at him for almost an hour without pause--and almost fired him for approaching us.
The owner was thrilled that we were even using his horrible course to "play" golf... and seemed to encourage Andrew to act like a fool.
Oh, and Andrew invited the owner of the course to the wedding. (Editor's note: He really did.) And as a thank you for his leniency, Matt decided to sneak off with one of his Snickers Bars and his talking "AFLAC" duck. What a jerk.
The only photo Andrew took the entire weekend is of the golf course owner's bathroom. I will spare you. This concludes my report on Andrew's bachelor party. If you read the whole thing, you are now an official member of the Cusp of Normal Fan Club.