Me, feeling no pain.
Last night, Corb and I set aside our scheduled night of classic Hollywood magic to attend a surprise birthday party for our friend Matty.
My friendship with Matty is kind of funny, because he went to high school with Annie, and so I've known him in different ways through the years. First, as one of her friends, someone with whom she used to hang. And then as a personal friend in recent years, first through our mutual connection with the Eldredge Players, and then through the church that we both attend. So it was with great pleasure that I agreed to attend a special Matty Gras in his honor last night.
The party was a lot of fun, but what I didn't count on was the impact of the special Hurricane punch that they served at the party. Just one (freakishly large) glass of this absolutely delicious concoction was enough to get me hooked on it for the entire evening, and enough to bathe the entire evening in hues of amber. Add to that some weird bluish liquid that I start consuming after the punch had left the building, and I think it's a pretty good guess I was feeling no pain by the end of the night.
So much so that we agreed that Corb should be the one to drive us home. The place the party was held at was only about fifteen minutes away from our place, but even so, we were super cautious about things, and took only back roads all the way home, with Corb being really careful about the speed limit. God forbid we should be pulled over, or anything. That wouldn't be a fun experience.
Honestly, although I've been in love with posting photos of stray martinis from random bars across the country for years now, I'm really not that much of a drinker. I like my drinks the opposite of the way I like my orgies: always social and never in the privacy of my own home.
Usually these days, I only limit myself to one drink, two tops. I find that it makes me a better conversationalist and also affords me the ability to watch other people careen out of control, something that can be awfully entertaining, not to mention, serve as good blackmail material the next day (PS: Not that I've ever done that, at all. I swear!)
Still, last night, I decided to let loose and not worry about limits. It was fun, too, and at least according to one friend, made for some interesting conversations. Yes, by the way, I am a little worried about how interesting those conversations actually were...but maybe it's better if I don't know.
It also made for a weird sense of fear and loathing at church this morning.
Last night they were serving skewers of grilled shrimp, and stupid (slightly drunk) me, I started eating some of the shrimp without peeling them. I didn't eat much that way...thank GOD, I wasn't THAT drunk.
But as I was sitting there in church, my mind started to wander. And I started to think, what if I had actually swallowed some of the shells, and just wasn't aware of it? Even worse, what if I had a shell or two still inside me?
And then I started to actually feel--I SWEAR--a little piece of shell in the back of my throat. Forming, before my very eyes.
I sat there, resisting the urge to open my mouth, to reach in and feel around for something. All through the service, through the sermon, through the hymnals, I felt like there was a little something something making itself known, sort of.
Then I started to worry, how about if I couldn't extract it? How would it get out? How about if it tried to come out the wrong way? How painful would that be? Or how about if it didn't come out, and I had a little piece of shrimp living inside me for the rest of my life?
It wasn't until Corb and I picked up some coffee and bagels on the way to Wallie World that the feeling started to go away.
I am happy to say, I am now shellfish free. Well, to the best of my knowledge.
Quick aside about Wallie World: as I was negotiating past the other shoppers this morning, I pulled into one aisle and found one couple there, swigging from a little silver flask. I mean, at freaking 12:15? Now, THAT'S real alchoholism for you. I think that's something you'd ONLY see at Wal-Mart! I tell you, endlessly entertaining, that place is.
Now I'm sitting here, enjoying a beautiful warm Sunday and feeling none the worse for wear. Corb, on the other hand, has a bad stomach ache and has been complaining about it all day. Thank God I inherited a strong constitution!
And the lesson for all this, sinners: if you're going to drink, make sure you chew all your shellfish. There, who says this blog isn't educational?