I’m not sure if I should have taken it as a good omen or a bad omen, but it snowed in Central Mississippi on Saturday night. You know how people supposedly go crazy when there’s a full moon? Well, the same thing happens when it snows this far south.
We had procured a babysitter for Saturday night, so we planned a night out. 9:30 PM rolled around and we were just walking out the door because Nathan was still recovering from the gumbo cook off earlier that day. It was snowing furiously by the time we hit the highway.
The night started off uneventful enough. All of our friends were already at the bar and had scored a table next to the dance floor. We started a tab and started the night with a coors light and a bloody mary. The shindig was in full swing.
After a couple of hours in, one guy in the group got cut off by the bartenders. Apparently, he’d had a couple too many. About an hour after that, another friend of ours got kicked out of the bar for showing his ass-literally. He did leave his huggie behind, though, and because it said “LoadMaster”, it was the source of many a giggle for the rest of the night.
Around midnight, the Nerd Herd graced the bar with their presence. There were three girls and one guy; one really large, curly-headed guy…complete with moobs and a Harry Potter scarf. They all seriously needed a visit from the dancing fairy. All the bad dancing clichés were present; the side-to-side step (i.e. Courtney Cox’s dance on the Bruce Springsteen video circa 1984), the high school slow dance dance, and one rare gem; the plant-your-feet-shoulder-length- apart-and-just-bounce-up -and-down dance – all off beat of course. This quartet made for a good hour of entertainment.
Around 1:30 AM, we decided to head to the Waffle House. There’s something mouthwatering about a ham & cheese omelet after a night at the bar. The high point of the Waffle House visit was the extremely gay server. He had on the shiniest pants I had ever seen on a man. He had long fingernails and was VERY feminine. There was split second when we thought HE might be a SHE. That’s when I decided to let his/her nametag answer my question. His name was “Spitfire.” Seriously; I can’t make this stuff up.
While I was paying the check (Spitfire was ringing us up), Nathan decided to ask Spitfire if that was his real name. Spitfire replied, “Oh no honey. That’s just my nickname. My real name is Patch.”
The night started off uneventful enough. All of our friends were already at the bar and had scored a table next to the dance floor. We started a tab and started the night with a coors light and a bloody mary. The shindig was in full swing.
After a couple of hours in, one guy in the group got cut off by the bartenders. Apparently, he’d had a couple too many. About an hour after that, another friend of ours got kicked out of the bar for showing his ass-literally. He did leave his huggie behind, though, and because it said “LoadMaster”, it was the source of many a giggle for the rest of the night.
Around midnight, the Nerd Herd graced the bar with their presence. There were three girls and one guy; one really large, curly-headed guy…complete with moobs and a Harry Potter scarf. They all seriously needed a visit from the dancing fairy. All the bad dancing clichés were present; the side-to-side step (i.e. Courtney Cox’s dance on the Bruce Springsteen video circa 1984), the high school slow dance dance, and one rare gem; the plant-your-feet-shoulder-length- apart-and-just-bounce-up -and-down dance – all off beat of course. This quartet made for a good hour of entertainment.
Around 1:30 AM, we decided to head to the Waffle House. There’s something mouthwatering about a ham & cheese omelet after a night at the bar. The high point of the Waffle House visit was the extremely gay server. He had on the shiniest pants I had ever seen on a man. He had long fingernails and was VERY feminine. There was split second when we thought HE might be a SHE. That’s when I decided to let his/her nametag answer my question. His name was “Spitfire.” Seriously; I can’t make this stuff up.
While I was paying the check (Spitfire was ringing us up), Nathan decided to ask Spitfire if that was his real name. Spitfire replied, “Oh no honey. That’s just my nickname. My real name is Patch.”
