What, it's Monday? That means I had a weekend, though I don't remember very much relaxing. I have lots of bug bites and my husband is sunburned and sore, though, so I guess we did something fun. Or not.
Friday night, y'all. Just, oh my GAH. Our friends Jen and Nicole won a "free beer party" at Bar Nashville. For some reason, we all thought it would be kind of fun to go, in an ironic, people-watching sort of way.
Mind you, we are not the type of folks to frequent clubs. I felt about 100 years old. Actually, when I was 19, I still would have been too old to go to a place like that. It was 47 different kinds of wrong. And we sort of suspected it would be, but we thought it would be something fun to do, just for kicks. Ahem.
Here are some things we saw during our 2-hour foray into Bar Nashville:
-One girl in a very small shirt and a ridiculous straw cowboy hat, spilling beer on her arm, then giggling when her date decided to lick it off. What a gentleman.
-Several older ladies, dancing on the bar, some of them clearly with rehearsed moves they had been working on at home. One of them accepted a few dollar bills from an old, skanky male patron, which prompted Seth to say, "My memaw made $8 dancing at Bar Nashville!"
-One particularly older lady, or at least a walking advertisement for the cruel effects of sun worshipping, was dancing in a cage and wearing a leopard print skirt. Y'all. That's somebody's momma, probably somebody's grandma.
-Four people (2 guys and 2 girls), who I'm pretty sure were engaged in group sex. Thanks for sharing!
-A DJ who must not have bought any new music since 1996. Um, "Jack and Diane"? "Closer" by Nine Inch Nails? And, my personal favorite, "Finally" by the presumed missing Cece Penniston? Am I at my senior prom? Good times.
-And my favorite thing of all, which pretty much encapsulates the Bar Nashville experience in a nutshell--every hour or so, this piercing, obnoxious siren would sound. All the drunk, sweaty
skanks patrons would throw their hands up in the air and yell "WOOOO!" while from the ceiling dropped (not confetti; you think it's confetti, right? Or maybe balloons? Well, that's a little too uppity for Bar Nashville!). . .
NAPKINS! White beverage napkins imprinted with the Kool cigarettes logo. How festive! Also, when mixed with sweat and beer and God-knows-what on the floor, how pretty. Not to mention what it looked like all bunched up and stuck to the heels of my shoes.
Ahem. Also, the free beer was warm, draft PBR in dixie cups, and you had to stand in line for it. I opted to just buy bottled beer at the bar, but it took me about 20 minutes to get the bartender's attention, probably because I wasn't wearing a bikini top, nor was anyone licking anything off of any of my limbs.
Saturday was spent at the Edgefield tour of homes, Brandon's rooftop pool (I have now decided we should have a rooftop pool, instead of an attic. Ha?), and Seth's parents' church. Hee. His mom convinced Seth and the band to play at their church's "Coffee House," which I suppose is intended to give the kids something to do besides smoke cigarettes and steal things? Anyway, there were about 50 people there, and Seth's band wasn't even the headlining act. Haw. Anyway, it was a nice thing to do.
Sunday at my Mom's house was special. We had been shoveling this huge dirt pile (well, actually Seth had been doing most of the work), and we had loaded up the bed of my Dad's old truck with dirt. It seems that over the course of the week, the dirt had fermented, and when we went to shovel the dirt and mud from the truck into a wooded area, it smelled like poop. But not just poop. The poop of a thousand giant angry monsters. That took about an hour, and we smelled really great afterwards. And then we ate hot dogs, which pretty much capped off a really All-American family weekend for us.
I'm almost relieved to be back at work.