Happy Friday The 13th!!! *SQUEAL*

"You've never really imagined yourself as the committed type, but a state-appointed psychiatrist will soon prove you wrong. "

Where yesterday marked the first utterly miserable day of this New Year, today promises happiness soaked in unicorn tears for little reason beyond the coupling of the day of the week with the date of the month. You see, this is a holiday for My I.D.S.T. and I!



There is a little hole-in-the-wall/dive bar, here, called Murphys. With shoddy stucco walls unforgivingly stretched beyond the quaint horseshoe bar, dim lighting, shady-at-best regulars, crime-hub-location and a jukebox - Murphys is the muthafukin bees knees! With the obvious exception of the memory I'm about to re-live for you, the most prominent memory I hold of this beloved tavern is my vomiting tomato juice ON aforementioned horseshoe bar, mid-conversation, and entirely unnoticed as such events are truly non-events at Murphys.

On a particular evening, I had wandered down to Murphys with my roommate to meet the "man of her dreams" she had encountered just the evening before. "This is the one!", she shrieked, "We are destined to run away to Costa Rica together, get married, and live drunkily ever after!" Pure gold, this one. She was always a bit of a hot mess so I simply took the ordeal as an opportunity to throw back a pitcher or three of cheap beer on a random Wednesday (Prior to breeding, I actually had a borderline legendary tolerance for such worthwhile activities). I can't be sure we even crossed the thresh hold to the joint and she already pounced her new found pet. I exchanged awkward pleasantries with the gentleman (and believe me, I'm using that term VERY LOOSELY), met his dashingly ominous friend, and took my seat at the bar. But oh my yes, let's back that trolley up for a moment.... the dashingly ominous friend :).

The tall drink of water accompanying my friend's pet with his shaved head, stunning red mustache/"Hail Satan/Metal" goatee, adorable dimples, extraordinarily intoxicating green eyes and the icing on the cake: this deep, purringly angry voice. Right off the bat, he was kind, funny, charismatic, brilliant, intriguing. Right off the bat, I was taken. You see, I was dating the roommate's brother - a dud of a character, but that's a story for another day. After marvelous conversation about anything and everything imaginable, The Friend asked me to stay for another round - though it killed me to do so - I was honest with him. I told him I was taken and that it was a pleasure meeting him, but that I really needed to get back home.

"That's OK, I'll wait."
"I'm sorry, what?"
"You said you're taken and I said I'll wait. I'm going to marry you and I'll wait as long as I have to."
*stunned silence*

Now fast forward almost six months down the road.... I had already ended the horribly dysfunctional courtship with The Roommate's Brother and was enjoying a bit of blissful solitude. I don't recall what the catalyst was, but one day, I throw myself down on the couch next to The Roommate and ask her if she has The Friend's number.... By the by, The Love of The Roommate's life had ended up moving in with us the morning after that bar encounter, eventually tired of the theatrics and debauchery of their relationship, told her he was headed to a basketball game with his father in Denver, and never returned! Anyway - she did.... have the number, that is. Knowing damn well I am a shy wreck when it comes to social interactions of any sort, she had the good sense (a rare treat, to be sure) to text him on my behalf. It was done. A date was set for that very evening.

As we both would only later find out, we both had arranged an "out" for that night. His friend was on call to rescue him with a pre-arranged and rehearsed emergency, and I actually brought back-up of two coworkers *snicker*. None of that was necessary - it was an evening of laughter, engaging conversation, dancing to karaoke Frank Sinatra.... Perfection. We were married within 6 months of that first magical night.

This all brings me to the subject at hand (I know, I know: "FINALLY!"... I enjoy rambling, yesterday REALLY sucked, and this is making me happy, so zip it!)... Friday The 13th was an instant bonding point for us. Not only are we both avid fans of all things horror, but we are both unreasonably superstitious. Add to that the fact that his last name (and mine now, as well) is Voorhies. (OK, so it's a different spelling than the infamous Jason Voorhees, but that didn't stop me from winning an "authentic replica" of Jason's hockey mask at an invitation-only showing of the "Friday The 13th" remake a few years back.... Of course, this was also the result of me shouting "FOR FUCK'S SAKE, OUR LAST NAME IS VOORHIES" in the midst of a full-blown temper tantrum when we were overlooked twice during the initial prize giveaways at said showing...... But I digress).



It has been over 6 incredible years since that first real date. 6 years filled with the caliber of adventures I never imagined I'd be a part of. And today is quite selfishly OUR DAY. It's one of those silly little things that makes us as happy as spoiled kiddos on Christmas morning. Our *cough* breeding plans dictated that it was not to be our anniversary, but it's almost more fun when it pops up unexpectedly (and frankly, a LOT of things "pop up unexpectedly" when your memory is absent at best :) ). So I dedicate today to My "Big Bag of Man Candy", though I wish you all a magical, lucky and exquisite day!!!

2 comments:

  1. Hello, kitten with a whip.

    Totally kidnapping you based on your hot comment over at Taming Insanity's.

    Obvs, you know your shit.

    Here to haunt you now, baby.

    xo

    Pssst...for free survival tip of the day: NEVER smile back to a man with a rattail.

    The end.

    ReplyDelete
  2. Meow! Pleasure meeting you, Darling!

    Oh my... this is awkward *nonchalantly hiding packed luggage discretely off to the side*... Shall I put up a fight now or later? *smile*

    No matter - I do so adore a good haunting! And much obliged for the free survival tip!.... it certainly would explain the vomited tomato juice in the post... ;)

    XOXO

    Fin.

    ReplyDelete

Kitty

Friday, January 13, 2012

Happy Friday The 13th!!! *SQUEAL*

"You've never really imagined yourself as the committed type, but a state-appointed psychiatrist will soon prove you wrong. "

Where yesterday marked the first utterly miserable day of this New Year, today promises happiness soaked in unicorn tears for little reason beyond the coupling of the day of the week with the date of the month. You see, this is a holiday for My I.D.S.T. and I!



There is a little hole-in-the-wall/dive bar, here, called Murphys. With shoddy stucco walls unforgivingly stretched beyond the quaint horseshoe bar, dim lighting, shady-at-best regulars, crime-hub-location and a jukebox - Murphys is the muthafukin bees knees! With the obvious exception of the memory I'm about to re-live for you, the most prominent memory I hold of this beloved tavern is my vomiting tomato juice ON aforementioned horseshoe bar, mid-conversation, and entirely unnoticed as such events are truly non-events at Murphys.

On a particular evening, I had wandered down to Murphys with my roommate to meet the "man of her dreams" she had encountered just the evening before. "This is the one!", she shrieked, "We are destined to run away to Costa Rica together, get married, and live drunkily ever after!" Pure gold, this one. She was always a bit of a hot mess so I simply took the ordeal as an opportunity to throw back a pitcher or three of cheap beer on a random Wednesday (Prior to breeding, I actually had a borderline legendary tolerance for such worthwhile activities). I can't be sure we even crossed the thresh hold to the joint and she already pounced her new found pet. I exchanged awkward pleasantries with the gentleman (and believe me, I'm using that term VERY LOOSELY), met his dashingly ominous friend, and took my seat at the bar. But oh my yes, let's back that trolley up for a moment.... the dashingly ominous friend :).

The tall drink of water accompanying my friend's pet with his shaved head, stunning red mustache/"Hail Satan/Metal" goatee, adorable dimples, extraordinarily intoxicating green eyes and the icing on the cake: this deep, purringly angry voice. Right off the bat, he was kind, funny, charismatic, brilliant, intriguing. Right off the bat, I was taken. You see, I was dating the roommate's brother - a dud of a character, but that's a story for another day. After marvelous conversation about anything and everything imaginable, The Friend asked me to stay for another round - though it killed me to do so - I was honest with him. I told him I was taken and that it was a pleasure meeting him, but that I really needed to get back home.

"That's OK, I'll wait."
"I'm sorry, what?"
"You said you're taken and I said I'll wait. I'm going to marry you and I'll wait as long as I have to."
*stunned silence*

Now fast forward almost six months down the road.... I had already ended the horribly dysfunctional courtship with The Roommate's Brother and was enjoying a bit of blissful solitude. I don't recall what the catalyst was, but one day, I throw myself down on the couch next to The Roommate and ask her if she has The Friend's number.... By the by, The Love of The Roommate's life had ended up moving in with us the morning after that bar encounter, eventually tired of the theatrics and debauchery of their relationship, told her he was headed to a basketball game with his father in Denver, and never returned! Anyway - she did.... have the number, that is. Knowing damn well I am a shy wreck when it comes to social interactions of any sort, she had the good sense (a rare treat, to be sure) to text him on my behalf. It was done. A date was set for that very evening.

As we both would only later find out, we both had arranged an "out" for that night. His friend was on call to rescue him with a pre-arranged and rehearsed emergency, and I actually brought back-up of two coworkers *snicker*. None of that was necessary - it was an evening of laughter, engaging conversation, dancing to karaoke Frank Sinatra.... Perfection. We were married within 6 months of that first magical night.

This all brings me to the subject at hand (I know, I know: "FINALLY!"... I enjoy rambling, yesterday REALLY sucked, and this is making me happy, so zip it!)... Friday The 13th was an instant bonding point for us. Not only are we both avid fans of all things horror, but we are both unreasonably superstitious. Add to that the fact that his last name (and mine now, as well) is Voorhies. (OK, so it's a different spelling than the infamous Jason Voorhees, but that didn't stop me from winning an "authentic replica" of Jason's hockey mask at an invitation-only showing of the "Friday The 13th" remake a few years back.... Of course, this was also the result of me shouting "FOR FUCK'S SAKE, OUR LAST NAME IS VOORHIES" in the midst of a full-blown temper tantrum when we were overlooked twice during the initial prize giveaways at said showing...... But I digress).



It has been over 6 incredible years since that first real date. 6 years filled with the caliber of adventures I never imagined I'd be a part of. And today is quite selfishly OUR DAY. It's one of those silly little things that makes us as happy as spoiled kiddos on Christmas morning. Our *cough* breeding plans dictated that it was not to be our anniversary, but it's almost more fun when it pops up unexpectedly (and frankly, a LOT of things "pop up unexpectedly" when your memory is absent at best :) ). So I dedicate today to My "Big Bag of Man Candy", though I wish you all a magical, lucky and exquisite day!!!

2 comments:

  1. Hello, kitten with a whip.

    Totally kidnapping you based on your hot comment over at Taming Insanity's.

    Obvs, you know your shit.

    Here to haunt you now, baby.

    xo

    Pssst...for free survival tip of the day: NEVER smile back to a man with a rattail.

    The end.

    ReplyDelete
  2. Meow! Pleasure meeting you, Darling!

    Oh my... this is awkward *nonchalantly hiding packed luggage discretely off to the side*... Shall I put up a fight now or later? *smile*

    No matter - I do so adore a good haunting! And much obliged for the free survival tip!.... it certainly would explain the vomited tomato juice in the post... ;)

    XOXO

    Fin.

    ReplyDelete