For part 1, click here
For part 2, click here
So, here's the boys' perspective:
The boys were minding
their own business, when they were hankering for a corn dog. Who could
blame them? The sweet, corn-y goodness that Hotdog on a Stick churns
out? Could make angels cry. Seriously.
But, they were drunk.
Shitfaced on Bacardi 151, slurped from an Aquafina bottle or two. in a
mall, where impressionable children hang, with their corndog-buying
mommies. Oh, and sexist jokes about women? Not appreciated.
So after they were ejected? P realized he would not be meeting up with the ladies, as planned. And we are some scary bitches. So, he left SK on the curb outside the mall, and went back in real quick to buy a sucking-up gift to please his lady, that is going to be pissed when they pull a no-show.
SK? He thought the best place for him was in P's Jeep. So he staggered through the parking lot, moving from bumper to bumper, looking for a Jeep to crawl into. Dear God, WHY wasn't YouTube invented yet? Can you even IMAGINE some drunk motherfucker, barely able to walk, bumper surfing? And then, what if he had FOUND a Jeep? Who knows where he could have ended up.
He finds his way back to the front of the Mall, and sits on a curb, hoping someone with upright capability will find him.
But then, the tummy gets to gurglin. It also may have been, oh, 110 degrees. In the Midwest. So, SK does the only smart thing---he leans back, and very discreetly begins to vomit into a hedge.
At some point, the retching gets so involved, he has to completely abandon decorum. He is open legged, resting his elbows on his knees, vomiting on his own shoes. Repeatedly. Soon, he feels a presence. he looks up, and there are about 8 Mall Cops, shading the sun.
Just then, P comes out of the Mall, with a peace offering for his lady. The Mall Cops say, "Hey! Aren't you the guy we just kicked out of the Mall?"
Things, obviously, went downhill, culminating with their Mall Jail Experience.
PD had them in detention, with the Mall Cops chomping at the bit for
serious charges. P was scathing, spewing profanities towards the Mall Cops, but the model of
respect toward TPD.
The Mall Cops had gotten their Mall Cop Supervisor involved, and he was trying to get to the bottom of this mess. He had two twenty-somethings, handcuffed, shitfaced, in his office. One was actively barfing into a metal wastebasket. After a spell, he spoke to SK.
"Boy, I am sick and tired of talking to a waste basket. Sit up!"
SK slowly pulled his head out of the bucket, did a self-assessment. He was acutely aware that the little demons spinning his brain inside his head at an alarming rate worked exponentially faster when he was upright. So with dramatic pause, SK uttered, "this ain't happenin'" and back into the bucket he went, until it was time to be released.
Meanwhile, TPD took over, while the Mall Cops swished their flashlights in the hallway.
Seems they were telling some jokes, of the sexist variety, in the Food Court. Either the Lemonade Girl got huffy, or a mom with kids snitched. Either way, security was called, and the boys were ushered to the nearest exit.
:::Mall Jail, both boys handcuffed. SK's head in wastebasket:::
TPD: So, what was the joke you told, that got you in so much trouble?
P: As you can see, sir, we are in quite a bit of trouble, I'd rather not repeat it
TPD: C'mon now, son. I like a good joke as much as the next guy. And I just can't imagine what you said, that started all this trouble.
P: Sir, as I have said before, I would much rather not share, and avoid additional trouble.
TPD: Tell you what-I won't hold it against you.
P: Okay. "what's the useless piece of skin around the vagina?" "The woman".
(TPD about lost his damn mind, laughing so hard. You see, he was a bit put off being dragged out to the Mall, along with 7 or 8 or his buddies, all for a couple drunk and disorderlies. So his patience with the Mall Cops? Thinner than a comb-over in the wind. But, the Mall Cops were so pissed with P's mouth, TPD felt they had to do SOMETHING. At this point, TPD was trying to figure out how to get these two drunks home, without having to drag them to real jail, while still placating a bunch of underpaid over-important flashlight holders.)
Once all the details were hammered out, both boys signed off on trespassing, as well as a 6 month Mall ban. (Really? Banning two men from a Mall? Seriously? The only people that hurt was me, and S. And maybe future corndog sales.)
The boys were released to me and S, and we schlepped their asses back to the house, for MOST of us to get ready for work. P was the bartender----that's what they do best, work shitfaced. But SK? He was done. DONE. As in, lay him on the sofa with a towel below his mouth, face down, so he doesn't aspirate on his own vomit kind of done. Then, send a barely functioning drunk by the house a few times, to make sure he's still breathing.
P wasn't done being belligerent, yet. Here's the deal. While we were driving back to the place to get ready for work, I was less than thrilled with Mr. Almost-blew-his-education. I had not been joking when I mentioned that an alcohol violation would ruin his career. It would end it. Airlines do not hire pilots with alcohol offenses. At all. So, our entire time in Tulsa, far from family and friends? Would have been a waste. Combined with HUGE student loans. I was, shall I say, non-plussed. And P chastised me for my lack of support of my man.
P: Why are you being such a bitch??? You should learn to be supportive, to stand by your man, when he needs you.
Me: Are you fucking kidding me right now? I am VERY supportive, I called his work, told them he was too busy vomiting in the Mall Security Office to call in sick to work, and NO, I did not mention that his particular brand of food poisoning was Bacardi-inspired. I did NOT mention that, instead of getting ready for work, he was narrowly avoiding arrest. And you're questioning my ability to stand by my man? IF he survives this day, it will be because I was too busy working two jobs to support his ass instead of choking his damn neck, while he is passed out on your couch rather than contributing to our bills. So, the next time you want to question my devotion, my dedication? Go fuck yourself, instead.
It kept going, the entire time we were getting ready for work, mostly yelling from room to room, him questioning my dedication to my man, me explaining in vivid detail how incredibly stupid I thought they both were.
SK distinctly remembers one very small point of this day. He remembers hearing P chastise me. He remembers thinking, "Dude, you rock. Thanks for standing by me. But P? You're gonna lose."
Me? I got the perfect revenge: I married SK. And, I started this blog. Next time you see him? Ask if he wants a shot of 151.