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Remember that saying from Friends? (Or maybe it was That 70's Show...) "Don't use tongue to kiss the bride"? Well, yeah. Last night was Storm Surge, (a non-drug, non-alchol, but otherwise Soddom and Gomorrah reinvented party for Palm Harbor graduates) and after about a weeks worth of debating, I decided to go just for the hell of it. Christine, who is a lovely driver, picked me up at 10, then we picked up Matt and Kenny and headed to the Greek Orthodox church where the festivities were held, about half an hour early, and in the pouring rain. We waited around until we were informed that we were foolish children for even thinking we could bring yearbooks in. So we returned to the car (and I'm pretty sure I saw the principal's kid performing a sex act in the car next to me) and begrudgingly put our things down, and then forgot our ID's, which led to another round of car tag. Inside, they had a dance/picture booth/characture/jousting/alpine slide/whiplash machine/money laundering/everything else, plus callings for prizes every 15 minutes or so (Kenny won 75, I won 50, Christine won 45 to Outback Steakhouse, Matt won our undying love and respect) So, yeah. I spent 6 hours wondering, "Why am I here? Oh. Right." But the best part was at the end. They decided "Hey! We can wedge a little cheap setimentality into this event after all!" So they piled us into a room, made us stand in a circle and hold eachother and sway. Well, the kindly fellow next to me, the New Guy, started with his hand on my shoulder, which slowly gravitated down to my back...waist...and finally ass. Then he ran. I was shocked. What a cheap feel. Ugh. So, yes, that's how I'll remember my graduation night. I went to a drug and alcohol free festival which inbibed all the reasons why every other country hates us, and someone grabbed my ass. But the guy doing the charactures had very blue eyes. And I didn't get home until 5 o'friggin clock! Sweet angry jeezuz! But I get to do it again tonight...and tomorrow...and possibly the night after. Oh my. *****
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