Monday, August 16, 2010
Monday Attitude Adjustment Story #154
Watermelons – An Update
Hey John & Judy, remember the awful mixed league volleyball team we had? We were lucky to even score points let alone win games, but all the other volleyball players wanted to attend our after game parties? Those were the days…we couldn’t attract anyone who knew anything about volleyball to join our team but we did seem to have the best after game parties in the league and everyone wanted to attend those. John kept talking about serving “Watermelons” and he finally did around the last party we were going to have. I believe it was the last game of the season, there was snow on the ground, and he finally proceeded to make good on this “Threat”. Now if you do not know what a Watermelon is (the Alcoholic drink that is) I cannot give you the ingredients because I do not know its exact composition; you’ll probably have to pay a hefty price to get it from John C Yeargin (Note to John: bump it up by 10% for my cut). I can say that if you ever heard about or tasted “Long Island Iced Tea” let it be known that Watermelons fall into the same category…extremely strong alcoholic drinks that have no alcoholic taste.
Now the players in this story are three Animals and their wives (if you want to know what the Animal names are and why we were tagged with the moniker of “Animal”; you will have to purchase and read my first Monday Attitude Adjustment Story (MAAS) book [Warning: Shameless Self-Promotion Incident], but the wives names I will divulge here: John’s wife (Judy) was “Jugs”; Larry’s wife (Debbie) was “Buns” and my wife (Sylvia) was “Bones”. To clarify the logic behind these naming assignments I must divulge that Debbie was responsible for the wives’ names and personally I think that the only wife aptly named was “Jugs” but I digress. If you really want to know the Animal names given and how John and I earned them, you will have to read my new book, MAAS II [Warning: Another Shameless Self-Promotion Incident]. Now where was I Oh yeah, I was aware of the potency of this beverage, along with Jugs, Larry, and Buns, but we were the only ones that did know (and I wasn’t so sure of Buns). John was so sophisticated and cool; he would walk up to a reveler and ask, “Care for some Watermelon?” while showing them the gallon jug of the crap he was toting. If the response was in the affirmative, he would fill up a large ice tea glass and provide it to the hapless soul. I say hapless because he would float around the room like a giant, bumblebee “…just topping that off for you” as Jugs or Larry would supply him with fresh gallon containers of the stuff (I think Buns was too busy enjoying the pink juice to be of any help in its supply). I don’t know the actual count but I think he did make up about a gazillion gallons give or take a few.
Of course, having prior knowledge of the potency of the quaff, I presented the small glass that had held my Jack Daniels when John asked me if I wanted some Watermelon. I don’t like to drink anything sweet but I was a little curious…I now know what is meant by “Kick-a-Pooh Joy Juice”. Of course, Sylvia saw me and figured it wasn’t poison so she got a large tumbler full as well as the other person I am going to write about in this story; Marianne (I will not provide her last name to protect the innocent) who was known as everybody’s little sister. No one drinking that stuff realized how bombed they were getting but later in the night, I went to the fridge to get a beer and saw Marianne sitting at the kitchen table. She was sitting there because that’s all she could do…but when she saw me she perked up and with eyes crossed she belched and then laughingly inquired, “Why is my husband such an asshole?” Now I can’t be sure this is actually what she said because she was slurring quite heavily at the time, but I replied anyway, “I don’t know Marianne…some people are just born that way” and she responded by crying profusely. Then she spoke and started laughing; then she cried and she kept alternating between the two emotions as she continued talking. I swear that was the first time in my life that I have ever seen someone laughing and crying at the same time while carrying on a semi-logical conversation (at least as far as I could tell in between the slurs, laughs and heart-rending sobs). But not to worry, she did get a ride home because John did not want anyone to get hurt, so he had arranged that every loaded person would have a designated driver.
Bones had me to drive her and she is the other person I want to rat out. Now I know this will break a long standing practical joke (about 26 years) but for literary’s sake (and the fact that I couldn’t think of anything else to write about this week) I am sure that my friends will forgive me. You see my wife is almost a professional dancer who loves fast dancing; never tiring of gyrating her hips in sensuous motions. Debbie asserted that Sylvia would dance at the ring of a bell…and since Debbie happened to have a small, ceramic bell, she rang it…all night long. At first, whenever Debbie rang that damn thing, Sylvia would start grinding out of good humor…later, after a few pints of Watermelons… grinding was supplanted with flopping. Anyway she finally passed out and I had to carry her out to the car (her shoes were off and like I said before, snow was on the ground) and put her to bed when we got home. I undressed her and tucked her in for the night. The next morning when she asked my why she was naked, I pretended to be in a foul mood and hissed, “…Why don’t you call Judy and ask her yourself, ‘Barbarella’?” then I stormed out of the room and totally ignored her. When she finally did call Judy, John answered and said “Ring-a-ling -a–ding there hot mama. I gotta table you can dance on…” then Judy acted mad and pretended she had pushed him away from the phone. Then, when Sylvia asked what happened last night, Judy replied by chiding my poor wife saying; “You announced that you were tired of hearing about Paul’s past days running around with go-go girls, so how’s this?” Then you removed your shoes and hopped onto Debbie’s coffee table…Stripping down to your birthday suit, you danced announcing, “Is this how they did it?” Everyone was in on the joke, so no matter who she called she heard the same story and then, as if to prove it all, I showed her the bell that Debbie had given me to take home so that quote: “No other husband would be subjected to such lewd behavior”. In fact, every time she talked to Debbie or Judy or John (even after we moved to California) they would usually bring up that night and that damned little bell. Well my dear, I’m telling you it was all a lie. You can rest easy now secure in the fact that you did not reveal yourself to anyone…at THAT party…heh…heh…I’m a little stinker ain’t I?
Next week's 08-23-2010 (#155) title: TBD