Weekend Assignment #44

Mr. By The Way is begging to hear my funny party story. So here goes.

In honor of the Olympics being held in Athens this past summer, my friend Justin thought it would be festive to have a toga party. There were kegs and drunk people and tournaments and poorly adorned togas. It was a gold medal idea.

I had just returned from my three week vacation to California, Versace skirt in tow and I thought it would look stunning under a queen-sized purple sheet. Note to self: Don't wear Versace in the presence of alcohol.

Within a half hour of getting there, I am doing tequila shots out of a dixie cup with an EMT (extreme man treat) I sloppily flirted with. I think he felt sorry for me and was equally endeared by my slurring and impressed with how much I could hold down. There must've been something he liked about me, he took me on a lovely date a few weeks later.

Anthony and Gina and I all arrived together. They wanted (or maybe I wanted to) hit up my favorite club so I could go dance sans the inhibitions I normally don't have anyway. I tell EMT and he agrees to meet us there. I get there and am dancing with Anthony to some Prince song. Somewhere in there I stop dancing and just begin to sway back and forth. I'm startled by Anthony putting his hands on my shoulder and pushing me toward EMT and he was shakin his goove thang in my direction. At least I think he was shakin' his groove thang. From what I heard expost facto, Extreme Man Treat is not so tasty on the dance floor. And after that night, I'm not sure I am. I fell. I fell on the dancefloor.

That was the indicator that it was time to leave. I made Anthony drive me back to the toga party where I proceeded to drink more in the company of my good friend Sean. The party died down and we down into the basement and ate some vegetables. With dip. I thought it'd be funny to stick my hand in the dip and wipe it ALL OVER MY VERSACE SKIRT. Aces, Marissa, Aces.

Thank God for dry cleaning.

And thank god for litter boxes. Where I proceeded to secretly throw up in in the wee hours of morning.

Real funny, I know.