A little background on "Edville". One of my horses, Absolut (Yes, he's named after vodka. What? Am I an alcoholic? Why would you ask that? NO I DIDN'T NAME HIM THAT. God. You try not to give a horse an identity crisis and people are all over you.). Anyways, he lives at this guy Ed's house. Ed is dating my good friend Meg, who also happens to be Amanda's aunt. I know Meg because she manages the barn my other horse lives at. And Amanda's mother lives in the house next door to Ed. Are you confused yet? Good. So am I.
So this little compound of people and horses that are all related and connected somehow is lovingly referred to as Edville.
Moving on. I arrived at the birthday bonfire, poured my first glass of champagne and headed out to warm myself rotisserie style by the fire. Within moments, an intoxicated Meg followed by an inmate-orange-jumpsuit wearing Amanda came running out of the house, hopped onto the ATV, and took off into the 4 foot deep snowy woods.
I wish so hard that I had had the foresight to take a picture of this.
They made it about 300 feet before getting stuck. Which is 250 feet further than I had expected. The rest of us stood around the fire watching the immobile ATV headlights at the bottom of the hill sporadically yelling things.
CASUAL BYSTANDER #1: Why don't they get off and push?
KIND OF DRUNK BYSTANDER #2: If there was a lesbian down there they would already be moving.
motor vehicle.
Evenutally we went back inside to get more drinks
....and someone went down to save them.
The rest of the evening included a lot of dancing, Jersey Shore style fist pumping, inappropriate drunk-serious conversations (Which are totally the BBD counterpart to sober-serious conversations, since you get to deal with the issue without actually having to remember dealing with the issue. Phew.), chain smoking, and motor-boating the birthday girl.
True happiness is a motor-boat so aggressive it rips your shirt.
Just when I decided I had had enough fun for one evening, my friend pranced into the kitchen in her underwear wrapped in a Hue Hefner style robe and threw herself into the hot tub.
I love the hot tub.
The hot tub is where it's at.
Especially when your friend is standing in there in her underwear drinking straight out of a black bottle of champagne while Far East Movement bumps in the background. That's rockstar status right there.
But after a brief battle of inner turmoil I declined and got into my car to head home.
I made it about half a mile down the road when a cop passed me going the opposite way. He flicked his blue lights on, and whipped his cruiser around in the middle of the road, heading back after me. Now, I've lost my license for accumulation of speeding tickets 3 separate times. My driving record is about as clean as one of those "escorts" they hire out to rich guys with no social skills. So when I get pulled over I have a very slim chance of getting away from the situation without a new point to add to my insurance (Which I pay 4 grand for per year. Let that sink in. 4 GRAND. Mini Life Lesson: Don't speed.).
The guy takes my license, tells me I was going 56 in a 45 (pff, 11 mph over. Please.), and then asks me if I have been drinking.
Bad Decision: Drinking an entire bottle of champagne in an hour.
Better Bad Decision: Waiting 4 hours after that before driving home.
While the answer is yes, I hadn't had anything in hours and felt fine. I had, however, spent the latter portion of the evening with a lap companion who had had plenty to drink and thought my lap might also like a few sips of wine. So I may or may not have reeked of zinfandel. I decided it was best to tell the truth and admitted to having had a couple earlier in the evening but assured the officer I was currently fine to command my death box home. He seemed OK with this and went back to his cruiser.
Then he returned...
OFFICER: Miss, can you step out of the car please?
ME (in my head): OMG OMG OMG. THIS IS JUST LIKE COPS. IS HE GOING TO ROUGH ME UP? WILL I BE ON TV?!?!?
ME (outloud): Why yes officer. No problem at all.
Have you ever had to perform a sobriety test in 10 degree weather in front of 6 police officers and a cruiser spotlight reminiscent of a solo act on Broadway? Because I have. And while I was not drunk, I was not middle-of-a-Tuesday sober either and the spotlight/enough-officers-to-take-down-a-bear combination made me a little nervous. I had to follow that guy's finger without moving my head, say the alphabet without singing, and walk off 9 steps in a straight ass line in both directions. And I passed all his tests with no problem.
At the end it took all my self control not to yell "FUCK YEAH. I TOLD YOU I WASN'T DRUNK." But I thought maybe that might make me look a little drunk...
Anyways, that officer came back to my car one last time, told me to watch my speed in the future and that I was just getting a verbal warning. Turns out, the key to getting out of a ticket with a driving record that has archive folders is to be sober enough and polite enough to take and pass a sobriety test in the freezing ass cold. They probably figure that once they've put a sober person through that, it would be a total asshole move to give them a ticket. No one wants to be an asshole.
Everything turned out OK, but looking back on things...if I had just agreed to go into the hot tub, none of that police/sobriety test/Broadway performance would have happened.
Life Lesson: Never say no to the hot tub.
Wait, no. That doesn't seem right...
LSLP, Ash.
4k a year is rough. Not to condone speeding, but most radar detectors would have gone off well before he got your speed.
ReplyDeleteIf you spent more time talking to me, I could save you a lot of angst from trying to relive MY life!!!
ReplyDelete- Poppa Snell