My Untraditional Mother's Day: Part 1

I have only three more weeks left of work before summer break!  I am really excited.  This will be the first summer ever in my entire teaching career that I have nothing to do--no more classes to take, no papers to write, no obligations/deadlines to meet.  I am sure I will be painfully bored, but boredom sounds really nice right now.

On Saturday night I went out with Shannon, Jeremy, and Sarah to the Iron Boar or Hog or whatever that place is called.  Sarah and I arrived at Shannon's house shortly after 8:00, and we headed out right around 9:00.  The first three hours or so were a lot of fun.  We enjoyed some awesome karaoke, and danced and talked and laughed about who knows what.  Everything just seemed so hysterical that night.  I remember at one point, I leaned toward Shan's bar stool, and she stated out of the blue, "Wow, your hair smells really good."  Wanting to return the favor, I grabbed a lock of her hair, sniffed it, and said, "Wow, your hair smells so...neutral."  She started giggling, flipped her hair, and announced, "I use Pantene."  I think I was actually crying over that statement, thinking how much Pantene would appreciate my sister's brilliant marketing.

Sometime between 12:00 and 1:00 a.m., the atmosphere of the place seemed to change and it got a little nerve-wracking.  I don't know if the guy-to-girl ratio was just WAY off that night, but Shannon and I felt like live bait in the middle of a piranha tank (her simile, not mine).  Shan and I kept trying to dance with each other but were constantly being yanked onto the dance floor by this guy or that, and my butt was fondled so many times that I was beginning to forget that it was actually mine.  Oh yeah, the "I'm married" card meant absolutely nothing.  A mob of them would even follow us to the restrooms.  At one point, as I was exiting the ladies room, a man standing out in the hall grabbed my hand, thrust it up into the air, and shouted, "Back off guys, she's taken!"  But he seemed to be the only one to care, because I could barely get through the mob.  It was shortly after this that Shan made the executive decision that it was time to leave.  I mean, a little attention from the opposite-sex is always flattering, but this was so beyond over-kill that it was actually raising our blood pressure (I'm guessing. It's not like I had a blood pressure cuff handy).  So we snuck behind the bar to close our tabs at about 1:00 a.m., and did our best to slip out, unnoticed.  We still had four or five of them follow us out, hollering stuff about our "hotness" and what-not, but we were able to get out of there pretty quickly.  Jeremy was shocked by the whole thing.  He was trying really hard to be a good sport, but he just couldn't believe the level of disrespect that Shan and I were experiencing. 

One other strange thing happened that night.  At one point in the evening, a man came up and introduced himself to me and Shan.  His name was Pat.  He was wearing what looked a lot like hunting clothes (camouflage shirt, etc.), so Shannon asked him if he liked to hunt.  He said yes, he loves hunting, and he told us that he made a "mean venison stew."  I made some joking comment about the stew, saying something to the effect of "Ooh, I bet that really attracts the ladies."  He laughed and said "Not really, but the pot does."  I thought he was joking, but somehow the conversation evolved into me telling him how I had never once in my life actually tried pot.  He said "Here," and dropped this little spiky green ball into my hand.  It seemed to have appeared out of nowhere; I don't even know how he got it out so fast.  I swear the guy's a magician.  At any rate, if I had been sober, I might have had the presence of mind to say "No thank you" and give it back.  But instead, I was fascinated by that smelly little ball, and I just sat there and oohed and ahhhed over it.  Shan, on the other hand, said "Oh shit Jodi!  Hide that!" and I shoved it in my purse.  She told Pat something to the effect of, "My sister doesn't do that stuff.  She'll never know what to do with it."  So what does Pat do?  Out of nowhere he produces this pretty, multi-colored, glass smoker-thingie, and shoves it into my hands.  Now, again, a presence of mind here would have been a really good thing.  Maybe I would have told Pat to get lost or something.  But nooooo, instead I beam from ear-to-ear, put my hands on Pat's cheeks, and say "You are so sweet!  Thank you!" as if he just gave me a brand new vase for Mother's Day (and technically, by this point, it was Mother's Day).  I mean, I honestly remembering feeling sincerely touched by his wonderful, thoughtful gift.  Wow.  No more tequila for me. 

So that was the end of that.  Good job, Jodi.  You're a thirty-two year old woman accepting pot from a complete stranger in a bar.  On Mother's Day.  Niiiiiice.  You should know, though, that I did flush the pot down the toilet.  I kept the glass thingie though, because it's pretty.  Maybe I can use it to grow an herb or something.  Not THAT herb; I meant like parsley.  Or mint.

I have more to write about the weekend (including more warm, traditional Mother's Day stuff), but I will have to save it for my next entry, as this one is already way too long.