Thursday, November 1, 2012

A Genius Plan Born of a Fully Functioning Noodle, and a Rave!

In an effort to diminish my boredom while waiting for "those begging little peasants" (Erik's words, not mine) to finally make it to our door to collect their free sugar, I've decided to finally get around to answering question #4 in Carries amazing contest, the great get-away-give-away.  If you haven't already checked it out, don't bother.  It's totally lame and the prize isn't even anything that cool.  Trust me on this.

Right.  So.  Question #4.

This is a tough one for me.  I'm one of those lucky individuals who usually find myself at the center of envy because of my natural fluidity and grace in all things.

Except for that one time I nearly fell off the mountainside mountain biking.  Or got my snowboard caught under a root and gave myself a wicked ice rash.  Across my face.  Or the time I peed myself at my boyfriends family wedding.

I've really had to do a lot of soul searching to come up with something.  Anything, really.  And then I remembered.

The year was 1993.  I was a junior in high school near Tampa, FL.  My best friend Mandy had flown in from Ontario, Canada to stay with me for awhile.  I took her to the local hangout to play pool.

We met a couple of boys.  One of these boys was named Grady.

Grady had a pierced tongue.

Although, thinking back now, I probably only liked him because his name made me think of gravy.  I was awfully thin back then and probably hungry a lot.

Grady and friend invited Mandy and I to go with them the next night to a rave in Ybor City.

Ybor City.  Looks totes legit, right?

I had never been to a rave before but had heard about them and they sounded like the sort of thing depraved, deviant sort of individuals attended.  And really?  Allow two virtual strangers with questionable piercings and questionable motives drive us to Ybor for a night of dancing and debauchery?


Naturally, we were in.

I've read that teenagers aren't working with a fully functioning noggin.  Pretty sure that's a myth.

We made plans for them to pick us up at the end of the street at the agreed upon time the next night.  The agreed upon time being 2:00am.  The family would be asleep allowing us to slip from my second floor bedroom, out the front door and into the night unnoticed with plenty of time to be back, snug in bed before everyone awoke for church.

Dad didn't cooperate with out plan.  He had another one of his migraines and was still awake downstairs watching t.v.

We were determined and resourceful. 

Plan B!  The bathroom window on the second floor was just big enough for us to squeeze through.  It lined up with the balcony that was a few feet down.  It was decided that I would go feet first.  I squeezed and shimmied through that window like a baby oozing it's way through the birth canal. 

I'd decided once I made it out the window, I'd use the side of the house to push myself off, land on the balcony and take the balcony steps down from there.

The reality was, I made it out the window and gravity took over.  I hung from the window ledge by my fingertips for .02 seconds before sliding down the side of the house and landing in a broken, forlorn heap on the balcony.  At which point I proceeded to laugh so hard that I peed my pants.  

I really need to look into buying a new bladder.

We made it to the rave and it was...an experience.  One I never repeated again. 

This may have been when my intense aversion to crowds began.


She looks like the girl who was in the bathroom promising to catch her friend if she got dizzy after snorting...something.  I didn't stick around to ask.  The epitome of a considerate, thoughtful friend though.


Grady and friend dropped us at the end of my street with 30 minutes to spare before everyone was to wake for church.  Mandy and I booked it to the backyard to climb in the first floor bathroom window.  Even with our poorly formed brains, we knew there was no physical possibility of us scaling back up the side of the house to the 2nd floor window.

I climbed in feet first again and stepped down onto the toilet seat.

Only there was no seat.  Dad forgot to put the seat down. 

I left a soggy one-footed trail all the way upstairs and didn't care that the evidence led straight to my bedroom door. 

Stupid Grady with his stupid tongue piercing and his stupid rave.