Week 35 in The Year of Drinking Adventurously. Solbeso – Fail again….
Another South American non-starter. Solbeso is a Peruvian spirit made from the pulp that surrounds cacao beans. In other words, the part of the ‘chocolate’ plant that nobody uses. Feel free to explore this on your own, peeps. I’m skipping it. And its not like I could have found it if I wanted to anyway.
Once again, I struggled to decide what else I could write about. I thought about sharing some of my funny adventures from college and shortly thereafter. Then I started reminiscing about those days of yore and I realized that while the stuff I did back in the day with my friends was funny at the time, it just isn’t that funny recalling it now. How the hell I made it out of my early twenties alive is sometimes a mystery to me. So I believe I’ll let those tales remain untold. Besides, I don’t want to ruin my image as a dignified, elegant and sophisticated lady. I mentioned that to Lula and her response was to spit out her cocktail and remind me that that ship has sailed. Sigh…
Well, my college escapades aside, there is another amusing story I can tell you. A whole series of them, in fact. You see, I am a weirdo magnet. Not just that –I’m a drunken weirdo magnet. It’s my fate to be the girl who the ‘very drunk person’ singles out for conversation no matter where I am. Sporting event, concert, cocktail party, bar, baby shower… Oh yeah, they know how to find me.
The worst part? Everyone else leaves me to my fate. Friends, family, everyone– sees the drunk coming and bails on me. In 199_ (I forget the exact year), some friends and I went up to Montreal for a long weekend. These friends had a three-month-old baby, a five-year-old son and a love for hockey. We got tickets to see the Philadelphia Flyers play the Montreal Canadiens. We were in the cheap seats the Molson Centre (now the Bell Centre). Between the first and second periods, everybody either needed the bathroom or a beer. Except me. I was left with the three-month-old and the drunk guys sitting in front of us. Who just had to make friends, right? Because I had my Rod Brind’Amour jersey on. Because, yo, I’m from Philly and I’m always going to represent my team… And they’re from Vermont and they loved John LeClair (another Flyer) and they just had to fangirl about him. And explain the game of hockey to me. C’mon guys…
Seriously though, Rod Brind’Amour…
And oh, party parties…. From time immemorial I’ve been the cry-on-the-shoulder person because “my girlfriend left with another dude, I’m flunking out of calculus and I’ll never be an engineer, The Smiths broke up, and I’m mourning the death of society. It’s a Druid holiday and no one is celebrating but me… did anyone ever tell you you sound just like Demi Moore but you look like Christina Ricci?” Nope, never heard that one… More than twice. It’s why I gave up cigars… (Kidding)
Sorry, Christina, this is your future! Ahahahahaha *evil laugh*
Football games, my seat is inevitably next to the shirtless guy with the face paint in the middle of November who can’t feel the cold for his level of inebriation. And he will make me do the wave or curse the refs (ok, that I would do anyway) or sing… Yeah.
Cry, bitch, moan, complain, celebrate, dance, cheer for the team… apparently I’m your girl! There is an invisible sign above my head that says ‘if you’re loaded, go talk to Meg’ because it happens All. The. Time. My best friend in college -Michael P- started calling me the ‘weirdo magnet.’ It eventually got shortened to ‘weirdo’ because, well… I suppose that’s kind of obvious. Your vibe attracts your tribe.
So I guess all you weirdos are welcome. But it’s BYOB.