Week Three

Event:  Got Kidnapped and rode a Mechanical Bull

This week I was told by my good friends at work to be ready Friday night at 6:30 and to not ask any questions.  So, when they arrived the first thing I noticed was a wrapped present, which was handed to me when I got in the car.  "Here's something for you to wear tonight" they said.  Nervous, I ripped open the gift only to find they had purchased me a plum colored sweatshirt with a beautiful floral design...and a collar.  "Wow" I thought.  "They really shouldn't have."  And that's when I noticed the added bonus - one of my talented friends had monogrammed my name on it!  It was like real life Laverne & Shirley!  (only waaaaay worse).

Laughing about my new gift all the way, we pulled up to the secret destination - a local Comedy Club. I've always wanted to go, but have never been.  Praying this was not a practical joke and I was going to be the focus on Stacy London's 'What Not to Wear' show, I put on my new sweatshirt like a champ and we got seated.  As the lights dimmed, we noticed there were about 50 guys sitting in front of us.  Excited by the prospects I quickly realized two things:  I was wearing an embroidered floral print sweatshirt and oops, they were like 18.

After the show, we decided to go to dinner and further humiliate myself in my new sweatshirt.  Two of us treated ourselves to a half-yard of beer and for the record, I haven't had a half-yard of beer since St. Patrick's Day 1997.  It wasn't a good idea then either.  Upon finishing my yard, I proceeded to act out the many uses of an empty yard container.  It's quite useful as a flute, the horn seen in "Ricola" commercials, a really really long breast pump, the Statue of Liberty and a marching band baton.  (Did I mention I had two gin & tonics before dinner?  And some wonder why I'm still single...)

After this brilliant display of maturity, we headed to another bar.  We weren't sure what we were looking for, but boy did we find it.  We walked into a country bar and there was the thing I have tried to avoid most of my adult life:  A mechanical bull.  Well butter my biscuits and call me Reba I quickly befriended the 'cowboy' in charge of the bull and pleaded with him to A) Let me ride despite my clear intoxication, and B) Turn this bull into Bambi and make me look good.  He agreed to my terms and before I knew it, I was in the padded ring.  Wanting to make an entrance, I thought it would be a good idea to get a running start and mount the bull in one flying leap.  Enter liquid courage.

As soon as I was in position, left hand in the air, right hand firmly gripping the harness, the bull starts up and that's when it hit me.  Ooooooooooooooooh Shiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiit!  What am I doing?  My heart is pounding out of my chest.  Luckily, my Cowboy in Shining Armor kept his promise and I quickly realized the bull was moving as about as fast as those horses inside a grocery store kids pay a quarter to ride.  Oh thank God.  The bull finally came to a slow stop and I stepped off with my grace and dignity. 

And then I tripped on the padded mat.