05/31/08: Mocktoberfest

Mr. Euless accepted a rare invitation to an exclusive north Dallas soiree this past Saturday evening and probably overstayed his welcome, as hicks from the sticks are wont to do, as he returned to the mundaneness of Tarrant County by the dawn's early light, long after the host had gone to bed and the hostesses had departed for parts unknown. But not before getting a glimpse of how the other side lives, and parties: the cool kids jamming out to "Rock Band" in the den, the players running game in the hot tub, the rambunctious kids chicken fighting in the swimming pool, the earnest kids arguing politics in the kitchen - God only knows what that scene will be like next year when Bush moves onto the block and demands to be invited - the horny dude trying to get at the psychodrama in the bedroom, and tons of other people on the sidelines, chatting, drinking beer, shooting jello, watching, and taking notes. Well, I guess that was just me taking notes but my memory isn't as good as most people's. Especially after shooting jello.

My drink of choice was Shiner Bock mixed with the occasional Blonde, but when the good stuff ran out in the wee hours of the morning - long past the legal limit for buying alcohol from your local convenience store - I was pouring into me anything I could get my grubby little mitts around. Miller Lite, Keystone Light, Michelob Ultra - does it really matter when it's your sixth beer of the evening and your taste buds have long since gone numb? I think not.

It was a good party in the sense that nothing got broken; it was a bad party in the sense that nothing got broken. we partied long, we partied hard, we partied with a sense of purpose, of a destiny to be fulfilled. People stopped by on their way home from club shows and other parties; eventually they left this party to, when they realized they couldn't keep up. Still we partied on, most of the hardcore now hanging out in the hot tub and pool, three guys for every girl which is a horrible ratio and was starting to put a damper on the festivities. Bachelorette Number Two started checking the time more frequently; she had to be at work by six and was long resigned to no longer having enough time between now and then for either sleeping or sobering up. C'est la vie.

My last conversation of the evening was with an attractive young lady half my age who had moments earlier been walking around in a white bra and black panties with a towel demurely wrapped around her, mostly, while she hunted for the rest of her clothes. She was now dressed in a gray t-shirt and blue jeans and we talked about work for a moment before walking outside into the gray early morning. I got into my car, once I found it, and started the long haul back to Euless. At every traffic light I was terrified I'd become another Dallas County carjack victim.