Monday, April 18, 2005
Too many men left alone without direction, but plenty of beer
Pay no attention to the people that are in the photo. This is for reference purposes only.
During the course of My friend Rene's wedding day, the wedding party was all asked to come down to the boat to lend a helping hand. Once we had all gathered on the deck of the Titanic and submitted the question, "what can we do to help?", an answer of "you can help by getting off my boat" was rendered. Basically this meant that the mother of the bride wanted the women folk to help out with decorating decisions and she didn't want any of the men folk around to screw it up.
Having offered our services, and having had them rejected, 5 of us decided that this would be a good time to take a stroll around town. I only had one mission handed down to me from my wife: pick up a couple bottles of champagne to take to the bride-to-be as she was getting ready for the night's festivities. And let me just say that, the local convenience store is not the best place to look for such items. Although, they did have some kick-ass trucker caps, lighters, beer coozies, etc.
Walking in what we thought was the direction of the nearest grocery store, we happened upon a vehicle rental place. I don't mean Hertz, Thrifty, Alamo. This is a small beach town. These were beach rentals: scooters, kayaks, bicycles, etc. Small talk with the shop keeper led to us having pricing and time limits defined for the various rental equipment that was available. We wanted something that would carry the 5 of us around town without having to apply for a loan to do so.
From a monetary feasibility standing, as well as a liability waiver signing standpoint, our only option was a bicycle buggy as pictured above. The only difference between what is pictured and what we rented was we only had two rows of seats to fit the 5 of us. So, $20 and one waiver signing later, off we go to the next stop: grocery store.
My only job is to procure 2 bottles of champagne. We walked out with 2 bottles of champagne, 1 bottle of Boone's Farm (I don't recall what flavor, but it was blue), 5 various tall boy beers (24 ounce, as opposed to 12 for those that don't know), 1 pack of cigarettes, and an American flag. Our hour of bicycle buggy enjoyment had just gotten started.
We attach the flag to the front of the buggy, because we're nothing if not patriotic, light up the smokes, but the beer into little paper bags, crack said beer open, and start peddling back to the hotel to drop of the bottles of champagne. We have to pass by the boat to get to the hotel. Luckily, I happened to have a pocket sized air horn with me (don't ask, that's a different story). So, as we peddle through oncoming traffic, swerving potholes and pedestrians, I let loose with a blast of the horn. This was more than significant to garner the attention of anyone within 100 yards. So now all of the afore mentioned women folk gather together on the boat to see what the noise was. Lo and behold, it's their very own husband/boyfriend/friend. And with a look from that collective group that could only be described as "what are these idiots doing now?" we continue on our journey back to the hotel.
Having made our way back to lodging and dropped off the bottles, we proceed to roll around town, giving the occasional toot of the air horn, still trying not to get run over by larger vehicles. And being in this buggy, even a Yugo is a bigger vehicle. Adam's steering with Gary in front as the brake man. I'm in the back in the middle (where there are no peddles) as dead weight with Whitt and Dave on either side of me.
Where's Dirty? Sleeping. He didn't join in any of the reindeer games. I believe that man slept about 18 hours that day, awaking in just enough time shower, dress, and make it to the wedding.
Having exhausted our need for speed, but not our time limit on the rental, we return to the shop to see what else we could use to make fools of ourselves. Well, due to liability issues and a lack of dogged negotiations, all we ended up doing was turning the buggy back in a half hour early. And this was fine with everyone. Not a one of us could remember the last time we had actually peddled a bike and we're not what you would call the most athletic people in the world.
At this point, 3 out of 5 beers have been finished and the empties disposed of properly. As we are walking to our next destination, a new-looking shiny police car pulls up, preventing us from walking across the street. Apparently, it's illegal to walk around this beach community while enjoying a tasty adult beverage. And since this was a cop, and not a rocket scientist, he had to make sure that the cans that were held by two of us were actually beer. I believe it was stated as such: "I know that you boys are going to tell me that that's not beer in your hands". "No sir!" As the cans turn at a 90 degree angle and the remaining contents spill out and down the storm sewer conveniently located under foot.
While it might not be legal to be drunk in public, it's perfectly legal to be drunk in a bar. So we decided we'd had enough of public.
With all of the alcohol gone now, and the empties placed in the trash, we bid farewell to the generous police officer (it could have resulted in a $125 fine each)and continued walking to our final destination of the afternoon: The Tiki Bar. ¶ 2:31 PM
Pay no attention to the people that are in the photo. This is for reference purposes only.
During the course of My friend Rene's wedding day, the wedding party was all asked to come down to the boat to lend a helping hand. Once we had all gathered on the deck of the Titanic and submitted the question, "what can we do to help?", an answer of "you can help by getting off my boat" was rendered. Basically this meant that the mother of the bride wanted the women folk to help out with decorating decisions and she didn't want any of the men folk around to screw it up.
Having offered our services, and having had them rejected, 5 of us decided that this would be a good time to take a stroll around town. I only had one mission handed down to me from my wife: pick up a couple bottles of champagne to take to the bride-to-be as she was getting ready for the night's festivities. And let me just say that, the local convenience store is not the best place to look for such items. Although, they did have some kick-ass trucker caps, lighters, beer coozies, etc.
Walking in what we thought was the direction of the nearest grocery store, we happened upon a vehicle rental place. I don't mean Hertz, Thrifty, Alamo. This is a small beach town. These were beach rentals: scooters, kayaks, bicycles, etc. Small talk with the shop keeper led to us having pricing and time limits defined for the various rental equipment that was available. We wanted something that would carry the 5 of us around town without having to apply for a loan to do so.
From a monetary feasibility standing, as well as a liability waiver signing standpoint, our only option was a bicycle buggy as pictured above. The only difference between what is pictured and what we rented was we only had two rows of seats to fit the 5 of us. So, $20 and one waiver signing later, off we go to the next stop: grocery store.
My only job is to procure 2 bottles of champagne. We walked out with 2 bottles of champagne, 1 bottle of Boone's Farm (I don't recall what flavor, but it was blue), 5 various tall boy beers (24 ounce, as opposed to 12 for those that don't know), 1 pack of cigarettes, and an American flag. Our hour of bicycle buggy enjoyment had just gotten started.
We attach the flag to the front of the buggy, because we're nothing if not patriotic, light up the smokes, but the beer into little paper bags, crack said beer open, and start peddling back to the hotel to drop of the bottles of champagne. We have to pass by the boat to get to the hotel. Luckily, I happened to have a pocket sized air horn with me (don't ask, that's a different story). So, as we peddle through oncoming traffic, swerving potholes and pedestrians, I let loose with a blast of the horn. This was more than significant to garner the attention of anyone within 100 yards. So now all of the afore mentioned women folk gather together on the boat to see what the noise was. Lo and behold, it's their very own husband/boyfriend/friend. And with a look from that collective group that could only be described as "what are these idiots doing now?" we continue on our journey back to the hotel.
Having made our way back to lodging and dropped off the bottles, we proceed to roll around town, giving the occasional toot of the air horn, still trying not to get run over by larger vehicles. And being in this buggy, even a Yugo is a bigger vehicle. Adam's steering with Gary in front as the brake man. I'm in the back in the middle (where there are no peddles) as dead weight with Whitt and Dave on either side of me.
Where's Dirty? Sleeping. He didn't join in any of the reindeer games. I believe that man slept about 18 hours that day, awaking in just enough time shower, dress, and make it to the wedding.
Having exhausted our need for speed, but not our time limit on the rental, we return to the shop to see what else we could use to make fools of ourselves. Well, due to liability issues and a lack of dogged negotiations, all we ended up doing was turning the buggy back in a half hour early. And this was fine with everyone. Not a one of us could remember the last time we had actually peddled a bike and we're not what you would call the most athletic people in the world.
At this point, 3 out of 5 beers have been finished and the empties disposed of properly. As we are walking to our next destination, a new-looking shiny police car pulls up, preventing us from walking across the street. Apparently, it's illegal to walk around this beach community while enjoying a tasty adult beverage. And since this was a cop, and not a rocket scientist, he had to make sure that the cans that were held by two of us were actually beer. I believe it was stated as such: "I know that you boys are going to tell me that that's not beer in your hands". "No sir!" As the cans turn at a 90 degree angle and the remaining contents spill out and down the storm sewer conveniently located under foot.
While it might not be legal to be drunk in public, it's perfectly legal to be drunk in a bar. So we decided we'd had enough of public.
With all of the alcohol gone now, and the empties placed in the trash, we bid farewell to the generous police officer (it could have resulted in a $125 fine each)and continued walking to our final destination of the afternoon: The Tiki Bar. ¶ 2:31 PM
