Farewell to Colorado

We are meeting to—celebrate? mourn?—the departure of Colorado from the Great State of Texas.  Apparently he is moving to California to work for evil people.  I arrive as—happy? sad?—hour is in full swing.  Someone asks Colorado what he’s on.

“I don’t know….” He turns to one of his friends—“Hey, what I am I on?”

I get out the notebook to record that one.

“It’s so early to get out the notebook,” I say, sipping my first of many vodka drinks.

“Yeah, it’s still light out,” MackTate agrees.

Some more people arrive and the discussion cycles through various forms of dating, politics, cage-fighting and social awkwardness. 

Mack Tate proclaims: “Anti-social is commonly misdiagnosed as asshole.  And it’s really just a social threshold anyway.”

One of the girls asks Colorado if he knows some guy named J.  “Yeah, I know that guy,” Colorado answers.  “I kicked his ass once.”

Well, that’s one way to get to know someone!

One of the girls tells me: “You have pretty lips.” She pauses.  “I’m not gay, but you do have pretty lips.”

This leads to a discussion of Angelina Jolie’s lips and whether we think they’re fake and whether we think she’s hot.

“Angelina Jolie makes me limp,” Colorado declares.

Then one of the girls is showing another girl her necklace.  “It’s a penis fish,” she says.

“What’s a penis fish?” I ask MackTate, scribbling furiously in the notebook.  This must be post-tequila shot, because I’m pretty sure she just said penis fish.

“I don’t know,” he answers.  “I’m kinda out of the loop.”

A guy staggers away from the table next to us, mumbling something about peeing on his friends.  I wonder if he’s serious.  Hmmm…we are on East Sixth Street.  It’s a bit different over here….

“My drunk is broken,” I tell MackTate. 

“No, not broken.  You are just experiencing a creeper drunk.  It will come,” he assures me.

Because we cycle back around to politics, I mention that I think the Tea Party or the Tea Baggers or whatever are really silly for choosing the name “Tea Baggers.”  This is not a commentary on their platform.  It is merely a commentary on how weird it is that they would choose a name that to me and most everyone in my generation conjures up images of a sexual act.  Was there no one in the party who spoke up and said, “Er, um, I think that maybe we should figure out a better name?”

And so that bring us back around to the following exchange:

“Does she have a vagina for a face?”

“That’s my fantasy.”

“Y’all—not all vaginas are pretty.”

“Where are the eyes?”

“Who cares?”

“Juice in the face.”

“Oh, that was crossing a line.”

I crack up.  “Now?  Now we’re crossing a line?  The juice in the face comment was really the point of no return?”  Classic.

I am trying to be a responsible alcoholic, so I go inside to get a tall glass of water before I get another alcoholic beverage.  When I return, I find I have missed a bit of a drama regarding a lost lighter.  Apparently MackTate has a special teensy tiny lighter, and owing to its tiny stature, it gets lost a lot.

“You know what they say.  If you love something, set it free.  Or just check your pockets again,” MackTate observes.

We decide—okay, it’s probably me insisting—to hit up the Irish Bar before our night is over.  Once we arrive, I practically climb up on the bar to tell Bartender J-One: “I’M GRADUATING FROM LAW SCHOOL IN TWO WEEKS!”  He is probably wondering how the hell I managed to do that while spending most of the spring semester in his place of employ.

We are listening to music and singing along at the top of our lungs.  Only when drunk is it cool that we all sing a chorus together—we are so proud.  Sober?  This would not be such an achievement.  Aha!  It appears the creeper drunk has arrived.

“This song makes me want to tickle the ivory,” MackTate says.

“Does that mean play the piano?” I peer at him over a Matador and vodka.

“Yes, and I don’t know how to play.”

We are settling up the tab.  “Do you need any money?” I ask.  MackTate declines.

“Oh, good, because I don’t have any,” I say, finishing off my drink.

Good night, good times, goodbye to Colorado! Come back and see us now, ya hear?

-Shakira 05.09.10