Tuesday, October 16, 2007

Have you ever met a stranger?

Ok, if I can't get Richard to give you the real scoop on this picture, and Zonker is apparently unable, whatever that means...it leaves it to me to tell the tale of late, late Saturday night:

As the party at the cabin of Richard, Holder and little ole me, begins to die down a couple of us realize that there is a bit of a mess to clean up before rest. NOT much of a mess considering how many people were fed and filled with punch, chocolate vodka, wine and a nice assortment of beer. (All of the left-overs somehow made it into the cooler I just happened to take home - thanks Holder!) Thanks be to whomever began the clean-up process!

So, Holder is in bed, Richard is tucked in nicely (with pillow and blanket no less) on the bathroom floor it is left to Zonker to take out the trash and I am responsible for clearing the table, putting up the soup, and doing a dish or two. - Well, I am a bit OCD, there are really only two rules at my house:
1) The bed is made; and
2) No dirty dishes in the sink at bed time
Anything else is negotiable.

OK, so the place looks much better and we (Zonker, me and the punchbowl) head out for the front porch and a smoke. I ask the following question: Have you ever met a stranger? (Because this guy talks to any and everyone, just an observation on my part.)

I don't even think he had a chance to answer when out of the neighbors cabin door pop two men, drunk - not a drunk as yours truly, but definitely stumbling, and a towel. Well, the towel did happen to be covering certain portions of a very interesting...lady? Her first reaction to noticing there were strangers on the porch - running up to Zonkers and saying "Do the chicken dance!"

No, I was not quick enough with the camera to get "the dance" on film!

Our lovely new hostess proceeds to introduce us to her ex-husband & boyfriend, informs us that they are "sleeping buddies", requests to "fix" the horns, then offers us ice for the punch. While she is retrieving the ice, she finds some clothes, covering about the same amount of flesh as the towel, just less risk of falling and scarring our virgin eyes.

We are continually invited to go into their cabin "to party", I continually look at my partner in crime trying to convey the following message: "don't you even think about leaving me here". I think he understood.

Then, out of the cabin come dozens of people! Do you remember the clown car at the circus? Just like that, even some of the clothes they were wearing, words can not describe. What were they all doing in there? Why did we not hear them? What were they doing in there? Why are they all speaking German? What were they all DOING in there. (Yes, I flash another look, please, please, please, please I don't want to be here any more.) What were they doing in there? Where did the walk off to? Then the ex-husband re-invites us to party, they are going back into the cabin.

What is that my eye spies? Could it be, yes, yes, I think it is. So, I inquire about that tat and make the boldest request thus far of the weekend. "Can I take a picture?"

"Sure", says the hostess with the mostest. Now this lady leans over the rail, pokes out her hind quarters, pulls her shirt up, pulls her shorts down, which one of the three men help her with, and, well, she actually shakes that thing while railing "No one has ever taken a picture of my a** before!"

Well, I don't know what else to say!

They said good night, we said good night. Then I received the answer to my question:

Between laughs Zonker says "I have never met a stranger, stranger."

I know, it sounds too good to be true...but, I have to say "I can't make this Shit up!"

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