Before

Heading to the finish line, I knew he was going to beat me. And it stung. There was no way that could happen. I was the runner, not him. This was the moment that I’d been training for and what had he done to prepare? Nada. So as I watched him head down the road, throngs of cheering fans encouraging everyone to finish, an idea popped into my head. Suddenly I went down, held my ankle, and started screaming. Being the kind soul that he is, he stopped and turned around without hesitation to come back to help me. As soon as he stooped down to check out the ankle, I leapt up screaming, “SUCKER!’ and raced towards the finish line. He still beat me, but I almost had him.

Later that evening, my boyfriend Chris, and friends Tyler and Tina decided to celebrate our finishes by heading out on the town. Tyler and Tina had lived in Virginia Beach for a number of years so they knew of cool places to hang out. We went to the first bar and before I knew it, I had downed three or four martinis. They weren’t real martinis, but more of the pretty drinks with sassy names that cost $9 each. Feeling pretty good, but being a little bored, we decided to head to the local piano bar, Crocodile Rocks. I had wanted to go there for some time and what better night than this? We made our way through the dimly lit, smokey room and grabbed an available table.

As the dueling pianos played, people were singing and laughing and drinking. We were no exception. One group obviously just came from a Renaissance fair and was still wearing the costumes to prove it. After about an hour, one of the piano players stopped, looked out into the crowd and said, “Do we have any drunk sluts in the audience?” As soon as the last word came out of his mouth, Chris, Tyler, and Tina all looked at me and Chris said, “DON’T!” but it was to late. I was screaming through the crowd as I made my way to the stage. I was a little annoyed that there were other “ladies” <ahem> on stage with me, but I’d manage to hold my own in whatever was going to happen.

The piano players started playing and I was thrilled because it was “Hey Ya” by Outkast. I loved that song (even more so now that I couldn’t really walk)!! The girls on stage starting dancing and I’m over to the side working my moves. In my head, I’m the hottest dancer on the stage…or in the place, for that matter. When I looked over i was shocked to see a few of the other girls were grinding and rubbing on each other. Oh no, they were NOT going to take the attention and the love of the crowd from me. No sir! At one point I believe that I was whipping an imaginary lasso over my head and doing some sort of dance that reminded me of Marsha Brady. The true sluts kept rubbing and loving on one another. Finally I had enough! There was only one thing to do and the music could not have been cued more perfectly.

You know the part in the song where Andre 3000 talks about breakin’ it down for the fellas and ladies. It kind of goes into a little acapella “Sh-sh-sh-shake it like a Polaroid picture…” At that point, I jumped onto one of the pianos, butt facing the crown, and began dry humping the piano. I had the crowd back on my side. The other girls actually stopped dancing to look at me. Well, that and the fact that one of the piano players stopped and said, “Careful, I’ve gotta play this thing all night!”. The song finished and I made my way past my fans. My friends were cracking up. A middle-aged lady came up to me and told me that I was a better dancer than “half of those skanks up there.” I guess that was a compliment. The drinking continued.

After

A little later the piano players stopped again and asked the crowd, “Do we have any girls with big butts in the room?” Well, I didn’t, but I could dream, right? My friends begged me not to do it, but my public needed me. I went back on stage and got my white girl overbite on to “Baby Got Back.”I don’t remember this part, but apparently I almost got into a fight onstage with another girl who did indeed have a large posterior because she was working it like Beyonce and I pushed her out of the way to shake what my mama gave me (which isn’t much). The song ended and the crowd cheered. I raced off-stage to the bathroom and puked in the toilet, went back to the table and ordered another drink. I mean, I had to wash the taste out of my mouth somehow.

Finally Tina and Chris decided that it was time to leave as Tyler and I had enjoyed the drinkies a little too much. I whined, “But I’ve got to say good bye to my new friends” and went over to the Renaissance group. I hugged some of the girls and told them that I loved them. We all walked (well, staggered) out to the car, but not before I threw up again and peed in the parking garage. Tina and Chris were sober so they enjoyed my company, I’m sure. The next morning was hell. I had never been as sick and hungover in my life. Unfortunately I couldn’t sleep it off because Chris and I needed to head back to Staunton. So we left and I was miserable until we got almost to Charlottesville. I perked up a bit then.

To this day, I can’t listen to Outkast without thinking about my time in the spotlight. Much to my disappointment, Crocodile Rocks was closed down not too long after that for ABC violations. Apparently they kept serving people alcohol when they were obviously intoxicated already. Surprise, surprise. I haven’t been out drinking with Tyler and Tina since then, but they always like to bring it up when I see them. I’m just grateful that it wasn’t caught on film…or maybe it was. YouTube here I come!