Normally getting smashed involves copious amounts of alcohol. But that wasn't the case Friday afternoon, when a beige Mercedes ran a red light and started my weekend with a bang.Truvy the CR-V wasn't driveable, so she spent the weekend in a tow lot, and I spent the weekend being picked up and dropped off by Hotass, until I could get a rental car today, a super-stylish and ultra-fashionable Toyota Corolla.
Aside from the inconvenience of not having a car and being pissed off because I had just filled up with gas ($40 wasted) and given Truvy her first bath of summer, it was a good weekend.
Most of the Gaggle had gone to more tropical, or at least sexier, settings: JonJon, Sweet Wade, Dusty and Bobo went to Pensacola. Tman went to IML in Chicago. The Chef and the Artist flew out Sunday morning for a week in Key West.
Hotass' "friend" from Birmingham, who the Gaggle has named BamaNut, and his best friend came to town Saturday. We had lunch at Huey's and then the four of us met the Dynamic Duo for an X-men matinee and Central BBQ before they went home to finish packing and haggle with the airline for changing their flight. Our schedules revolve around our feeding times.
After a early evening nap, the four of us started at the Pumping Station, there only long enough to have one drink and make an appearance, and then went to Backstreet.
There are a lot of reasons I can't go to Backstreet much. One, the recovery time from dancing til 3 in the morning is not what it used to be. Two, there are popped collars on Polo shirts everywhere, and I hope this is a trend that dies a quick and painful death. Three, I'm scared to death of the stairs after taking a tumble down them once before.
The Sunday morning recovery was just what I had expected: exhausted and a little hungover. And I guess that's why BamaNut asked me if I was always that grumpy on Sunday mornings. We hit a couple of Memorial Day cookouts, but I don't think any of us were quite feeling up to it. By five, I was ready for another nap.
The boys came over later in the evening, armed with pizza and cookies, and we played poker til after midnight.
BamaNut and Chris went back to Birmingham Monday morning, and I spent the day doing laundry and watching a "Flip That House" marathon on TLC with Hotass.
And the weekend ended like it began. BamaNut had just gotten back to Birmingham when a lady ran a red light and ripped off his front bumper.
Hope you had a smashing weekend too.
6 comments:
Ugh. I don't go to Backstreet anymore. The youngins make me feel so damned old, and I'm only 32.
Love me some Huey's, though. The West Coast Burger (with guacamole)is the way to go.
That, onion rings and a pitcher of Foster's make a scrumptious and traditional Memphis lunch.
Sorry the Mercedes beat up your CR-V. Damned Memphis drivers!
I say sue the bitch. Its your right as an American to falsify injuries and make a couple hundred grand if some socialite-stay-at-home-mother bitch is too involved in her cellphone conversation to stop at red lights. And since its one of the rights your country actually allows you to have, I say go for it. Pleh. :-)
Hehe....the stairs at Backstreet...classic. Did you wake up with a half-eaten Wendy's burger on your pillow, wondering if you took your own clothes off, or if it was done for you? Wait...that wasn't a Backstreet night...that was the Pumping Station, Xanax, Lexapro...and a shitload of wine...I'm getting my crazy James memories confused...
Luvs ya :-)
Skipper, I hope you are alright...I am with Dusty :).
Hugs, Shenandoah
Don't you wish your rental car was HOT as mine? Uh...
Can't beat the bright blue Hyundai Elantra with Moon Roof & Cruise baby. (Go ck out the pics on my blog if you dont believe me!) *laughs*
Yep.. "Baby" is still in the shop for 2 more weeks. But at least she'll be painted and pretty again. (Beale St here I come). Sorry Turvy got a boo boo Jamesypoo. Let me know if you need anything.
At least you got out of the accident uninjured and without back problems.
Oh, sweetie, so sorry to hear about the wreck!!!! Glad you are OK and hope Truvy will be soon, too. Call if you ever need me.
And yes, backstreet, haven't been since moved to town. I think I'm a little (no snickering) too old for the children. although a 24 year old did hit on me at cafe ole last week. But what would be talk about?
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