Tuesday, March 2, 2010

slap the bag

I'm actually still laughing after reading Jacky's latest guest blog. I can't stifle my uncontrollable laughter and it's preventing me from finding an apropos image to go along with the story. Jacky, you are the drunkest bitch I know, and holy hell, do I love you for it.  --

So I’ve written before about the “Salsa Situation” and how the term came to be…..well, it happened again this past weekend. My dear friend Chelsey wanted some company to attend a party at her co-worker’s apartment. (mistake #1- inviting me and my roommate Alli). We convince Chelsey to come over and pregame the party….”we PROMISE you Chelsey, we won’t get too drunk, everything will be fine, and nothing will be out of control at the party.” Ummm….lies.

Fast forward a few hours and 3/4ths of a handle later and all three of us are stumbling out of the house on our way to this “party.” We walk in….and of course, it’s a very classy affair. Wine and cheese and nicely dressed people sipping their nicely swirled, imported drinks. We grabbed cans of Miller Lite, Chelsey pulled a beer kozi out of her purse (we travel in style), and ultimately at least three people (that I can remember) come over and comment on how we don’t have to be drinking that. Oh no, don’t worry we saw all the bottles of wine and fancy beer….don’t worry. We enjoy Miller Lite. Thanks. So Chelsey, Alli, and I and our Miller Lites last about 15 minutes before venturing over the cheese plate in the front of the room. As our host was from Wisconsin, there was lots of nice cheeses and hummus….all nicely presented and adorned with grapes, etc. Let me just tell you, we went to TOWN on this cheese…in fact, there were no bread or crackers left (probably the only reason why we stopped eating- actual quote from the host, “OMG, all the crackers are gone!”) and Chelsey was chopping off blocks of cheddar the size of golf balls while I was dropping crumbs (many from out of my mouth) all over the table. Chelsey couldn’t actually hold herself and her cheese up, so she was leaning against the wall for support….and, on more than one occasion, turned the lights off/dimmed them for some serious mood lighting. It was around this time of the night, as all the attention had shifted over to us with the lighting “issues” that I somehow managed to get my dress caught in my underwear, and, thus, mooned/showed the entire right side of the room my ass cheek. (and we all know my reaction time to fixing this “situation” was, at best, somewhere between “delayed” and “ooohh what’s that nice breeze”) So much for being well behaved….but hey, someone had to liven up this party.

Luckily, our host also seemed to think the party was a bit lame. So she decided to start a game of “Slap the Bag.” For those who don’t know this game, it is when someone holds a bag of wine (taken out of a box) over your head, and you chug from the spigot until you can’t take it any longer, so you slap the bag and douse yourself and the floor in boxed wine in the process. So…maybe 4 or 5 people have gone, including Alli (who managed to drench herself and the couch with wine, barely getting any actually in her mouth, much to the chagrin of just about everyone in the vicinity), when it it’s my turn. I’m really not very good at chugging, so I’m up there doing my best to get as much wine/make as little mess as possible, and really trying not to make a fool of myself with my poor chugging skills. Little do I know/realize, but….in an effort to “do a good job” I’m apparently putting on a slightly pornographic showing and literally fellating the bag of wine. Once I was done, a group of gay men then led the entire party in a “Jackkkyyyy, Jackyyyy” chant to get me to give it another go…. I couldn’t disappoint my fans, so back to the bag I went. Camera flashes abound. I still had no clue why they all loved my “Slap the Bag” skills….and it wasn’t until after we left (heading to a bar of course) that my friends told me exactly what sort of show I had been putting on. Nothing like a little bag of wine BJ display in public. So classy. So. Embarrassing. Yet…just another day in the life.

One friend’s text after telling her only some of the night’s details, “How do you guy’s keep getting people to invite you to these things?”

I’m definitely starting to wonder….

EDIT: Guess I don't need a Google image because look what Jacky sent me?! In her words, she was trying to "catch the wine" but to everyone else she was "massaging the balls". Fantastic.


Mel said...


These guest blogs make me shake my head and make me feel like your MOM

Princess Malphaba said...

Pretty fantastic. Isn't it always those nights that start with a promise of "we're not going to get that drunk?"

Love it. Keep writing =)

dogimo said...

This is a funny story, but I don't get the whole 'pregame' strategy. I've never not been able to catch up as needed!

Plus, if you show up sober, you're in a strong position to identify certain people to definitely not "hit it off with" too much later on. Those mental notes don't always last, but it's better than nothing!

Unknown said...

mal - those nights are always the most dangerous ones!!

joe - never pregamed?!? god.. that was the basis of my college life. there's something to be said about getting drunk before you even go out. something really, really special...