The other day I went to go see the Broadway play of Dirty Rotten Scoundrels. I had never heard of it, but according to Hadassah, it was based on a really funny movie with Sir Michael Caine and Steve Martin and since I was already on a Broadway musical kick, I figured, why not? The play was really funny and it had an unexpected twist at the end that made me wish there was a second part to it. Needless to say I loved it. Especially the fact that dirty, rotten scoundrels who swindled people out of money, could be so loveable and charming. It reminded me of that one time when I borrowed a thousand dollars in cash from a not-so-secret admirer and went on a road trip with a friend, only to have them turn all psycho and more obsessed with me. Which actually happened in the play to Lawrence Jamieson, except his crazy admirer eventually left him to be with his manservant. Too bad I don’t have one of those.
Unlike Lawrence, I was all for paying my not-so-secret admirer back, fully. But when they got too demanding and too Glenn Close, รก la Fatal Attraction, well, I had to, needed to, ignore them, which wasn’t too hard, considering the fact the only way they could get a hold of me was through my cell phone, which I promptly disconnected the moment I returned from my trip. Of course, from an unbiased viewer, I know it looks like I took advantage of my secret admirer, swindling them for their money. But from a friends point of view, it was just another, roll-your-eyes-shake-your-head-and-put-your-hand-on-your-hip, “Oh, that David,” kinda thing, causing me to wonder if I got off scotch-free as a dirty, rotten scoundrel because I retold the story only among friends.
Were all dirty rotten scoundrels at one time or another, some less dirty, others more rotten, but scoundrels nonetheless. We all have moments in our life, where our actions haunt us, and we wonder out loud to our friends, why we did it in the first place. And I wondered if Colette, ever had a moment like that, about me. I mean, considering all the mixed signals she gave me, she should have had several moments, but that didn’t necessarily mean she did. Her newest mixed signal was an invitation to the upcoming Gwen Stefani concert in Phoenix…and one night in a ritzy hotel.
COLETTE: We should get a room with a Jacuzzi.
ME: Um. Yeah…that sounds good. I wonder if they have Jacuzzi rooms with double beds...
COLETTE: Double beds? Ok, Rockefeller. Don’t you know it’s cheaper if we get just the one bed?
Yeah. And it’s also cheaper if we didn’t get the Jacuzzi. Didn’t she know that? Such a scandalous scoundrel.
As luck would have it, Colette’s call waiting kicked in, leaving me a few moments to gather and collect my thoughts. Which lasted for about 15 seconds, because Colette was soon back on the line with me…talking about her “cute boss,” who apparently invited her to the movies. Ugh. Here we go again. Or is it…“went again?” Whatever. The point is, I wasn’t sure if I wanted to deal with Colette and her never-ending mixed signs. I needed to get away from reality and really think about whether or not I really wanted to travel 200 miles in a car with Colette, to go a concert. Ok, I guess it wasn’t just any ol’ concert, but still, it would be with Mrs. Mix ‘N’ Mashed Signs.
So, Hadassah invited me to two parties to get my mind off of things: a kegger at her house and Club Crawl. Club Crawl is this all night party, held Downtown, where all the bars and clubs open their doors for a small charge and you get to see, or rather, hear, over 100, different local bands. I’ve wanted to go, ever since I was a freshman in high school and saw the advertisements posted all over 4th Avenue and Downtown, but since it was a 21 and over event, I’ve had to wait with longing despair. But not anymore. It was the perfect escape. Or, if I was Gwen Stefani, the sweet escape.
It was all so wildly entertaining and fun. Club Crawl reminded me of Vegas, and how one could walk the streets with a drink in one hand and a “Rock On!” symbol in the other. Except this was Tucson, which meant I actually saved money and didn’t have to deal with drunken, foreign tourists. Just my drunken friends. Who kinda got a little too drunk. So we headed back to Hadassah’s Keg Party, which doesn’t really make sense, now that I think about it soberly, but at the time it was the absolute best solution. And speaking of Absolut, it was the preferred choice of drink at the party, rather than the beer, which meant this was one high-class college affair.
Unfortunately, the high-class affair was crashed by these dirty, rotten scoundrels, and that’s when somebody suggested a change of scenery. Like a strip club. I thought it was a most brilliant idea ever, and so I followed the voice and ended up leaving with my friend Nikki. As it turns out, we were the only ones who thought a nice strip club would be good for us, so together, we headed off to TD’s West Club. When we got there, we found out one of Nikki’s friends was having his birthday party there, in the VIP room, so not only were we granted free access, we were given unlimited drinks. And it was during my second drink, that I heard somebody calling my name.
It was Devona Monet, one of the smartest and most creative people I knew, back in high school. We had yearbook class together and I really thought she would be going places. But here she was. Smiling and waving to me. Topless. In a red, string bikini stuffed with dollar bills. It’s kinda awkward when a stripper friend gives you a hug, instead of a lap dance, because you wonder if the “Don’t Touch” rule still applies. After a brief, “Hi! How are you?” and another turn at the pole, Devona came back and talked to me catching up on old times, with everyone wondering the same thing: How did David get such a hot, topless girl to talk to him?
Meanwhile, back at the party house, someone, in a hazy state of mind, thought it wouldn’t be a true party without somebody getting married. And since Hadassah‘s friend Ruby was just ordained online through a Celestial priest, everyone figured, why not? The bride wore a cotton fleece blanket throw as a veil and carried a half-empty bottle of Bud Light while the groom carried a martini glass ring in his pocket. According to every drunken witness, it was a beautiful ceremony that ended with a lot of cheering, a lot of toasting, and a lot of noise. Which woke the neighbors, who called the police, who came to the house that Hadassah built, er, lived in.
Nikki and I got back to Hadassah’s house, the moment the police were walking up towards the front door, with all the surrounding neighbors standing outside, wondering what all the commotion was. We drove around the block once and parked far away from the house, for fear of being included with the scoundrels in the house. Walking up the driveway, the neighbor asked if we were the ones making noise, but we assured her it wasn’t us as we were just walking towards the house. Duh. All of a sudden, somebody threw a glass bottle in our direction, causing the neighbor to scream and yell out, “They’re after me!”
Turns out it wasn’t a beer bottle. It was somebody punching through Hadassah’s bedroom window to dispose a bag of weed, but then realized, the cops would probably find it outside. Nikki and I snuck in through the side and when we got in, we could see the house was in total disarray. Everyone was hiding in the bedrooms to give the illusion that the house wasn’t in full party mode as the neighbors led the police to believe. Which would’ve worked, if only the keg wasn’t right in the middle of the kitchen and the fact that Hadassah and her roommate covered the entire house with plastic, for easy cleaning, later on.
After the police left and tagged the house and everyone left, I fell asleep on the couch and had a really, really weird dream. . I dreamt that Ruby and I got married, only none of our friends were there, just her entire family and my mom and dad. Although there were a lot of people, I felt all alone and wondered what exactly was I doing. I wasnt ready to make such a big commitment, especially with someone I hardly knew. If I was going to make a commitment, it would have to be with someone I knew and it would have to start of real slow. So I went home. As I layed in my bed, Colette just sorta appeared. We got closer…and started to spoon…our bodies pressed close together…our legs entwining…then BOOM! I woke up, before I could get to the best part. If there was a best. And it was exactly that “if” part that made me take a chance, and accept Colette’s invitation. After all, as John Greenleaf Whittier once said, For all sad words of tongue and pen, the saddest are these, 'It might have been'.
Unlike Lawrence, I was all for paying my not-so-secret admirer back, fully. But when they got too demanding and too Glenn Close, รก la Fatal Attraction, well, I had to, needed to, ignore them, which wasn’t too hard, considering the fact the only way they could get a hold of me was through my cell phone, which I promptly disconnected the moment I returned from my trip. Of course, from an unbiased viewer, I know it looks like I took advantage of my secret admirer, swindling them for their money. But from a friends point of view, it was just another, roll-your-eyes-shake-your-head-and-put-your-hand-on-your-hip, “Oh, that David,” kinda thing, causing me to wonder if I got off scotch-free as a dirty, rotten scoundrel because I retold the story only among friends.
Were all dirty rotten scoundrels at one time or another, some less dirty, others more rotten, but scoundrels nonetheless. We all have moments in our life, where our actions haunt us, and we wonder out loud to our friends, why we did it in the first place. And I wondered if Colette, ever had a moment like that, about me. I mean, considering all the mixed signals she gave me, she should have had several moments, but that didn’t necessarily mean she did. Her newest mixed signal was an invitation to the upcoming Gwen Stefani concert in Phoenix…and one night in a ritzy hotel.
COLETTE: We should get a room with a Jacuzzi.
ME: Um. Yeah…that sounds good. I wonder if they have Jacuzzi rooms with double beds...
COLETTE: Double beds? Ok, Rockefeller. Don’t you know it’s cheaper if we get just the one bed?
Yeah. And it’s also cheaper if we didn’t get the Jacuzzi. Didn’t she know that? Such a scandalous scoundrel.
As luck would have it, Colette’s call waiting kicked in, leaving me a few moments to gather and collect my thoughts. Which lasted for about 15 seconds, because Colette was soon back on the line with me…talking about her “cute boss,” who apparently invited her to the movies. Ugh. Here we go again. Or is it…“went again?” Whatever. The point is, I wasn’t sure if I wanted to deal with Colette and her never-ending mixed signs. I needed to get away from reality and really think about whether or not I really wanted to travel 200 miles in a car with Colette, to go a concert. Ok, I guess it wasn’t just any ol’ concert, but still, it would be with Mrs. Mix ‘N’ Mashed Signs.
So, Hadassah invited me to two parties to get my mind off of things: a kegger at her house and Club Crawl. Club Crawl is this all night party, held Downtown, where all the bars and clubs open their doors for a small charge and you get to see, or rather, hear, over 100, different local bands. I’ve wanted to go, ever since I was a freshman in high school and saw the advertisements posted all over 4th Avenue and Downtown, but since it was a 21 and over event, I’ve had to wait with longing despair. But not anymore. It was the perfect escape. Or, if I was Gwen Stefani, the sweet escape.
It was all so wildly entertaining and fun. Club Crawl reminded me of Vegas, and how one could walk the streets with a drink in one hand and a “Rock On!” symbol in the other. Except this was Tucson, which meant I actually saved money and didn’t have to deal with drunken, foreign tourists. Just my drunken friends. Who kinda got a little too drunk. So we headed back to Hadassah’s Keg Party, which doesn’t really make sense, now that I think about it soberly, but at the time it was the absolute best solution. And speaking of Absolut, it was the preferred choice of drink at the party, rather than the beer, which meant this was one high-class college affair.
Unfortunately, the high-class affair was crashed by these dirty, rotten scoundrels, and that’s when somebody suggested a change of scenery. Like a strip club. I thought it was a most brilliant idea ever, and so I followed the voice and ended up leaving with my friend Nikki. As it turns out, we were the only ones who thought a nice strip club would be good for us, so together, we headed off to TD’s West Club. When we got there, we found out one of Nikki’s friends was having his birthday party there, in the VIP room, so not only were we granted free access, we were given unlimited drinks. And it was during my second drink, that I heard somebody calling my name.
It was Devona Monet, one of the smartest and most creative people I knew, back in high school. We had yearbook class together and I really thought she would be going places. But here she was. Smiling and waving to me. Topless. In a red, string bikini stuffed with dollar bills. It’s kinda awkward when a stripper friend gives you a hug, instead of a lap dance, because you wonder if the “Don’t Touch” rule still applies. After a brief, “Hi! How are you?” and another turn at the pole, Devona came back and talked to me catching up on old times, with everyone wondering the same thing: How did David get such a hot, topless girl to talk to him?
Meanwhile, back at the party house, someone, in a hazy state of mind, thought it wouldn’t be a true party without somebody getting married. And since Hadassah‘s friend Ruby was just ordained online through a Celestial priest, everyone figured, why not? The bride wore a cotton fleece blanket throw as a veil and carried a half-empty bottle of Bud Light while the groom carried a martini glass ring in his pocket. According to every drunken witness, it was a beautiful ceremony that ended with a lot of cheering, a lot of toasting, and a lot of noise. Which woke the neighbors, who called the police, who came to the house that Hadassah built, er, lived in.
Nikki and I got back to Hadassah’s house, the moment the police were walking up towards the front door, with all the surrounding neighbors standing outside, wondering what all the commotion was. We drove around the block once and parked far away from the house, for fear of being included with the scoundrels in the house. Walking up the driveway, the neighbor asked if we were the ones making noise, but we assured her it wasn’t us as we were just walking towards the house. Duh. All of a sudden, somebody threw a glass bottle in our direction, causing the neighbor to scream and yell out, “They’re after me!”
Turns out it wasn’t a beer bottle. It was somebody punching through Hadassah’s bedroom window to dispose a bag of weed, but then realized, the cops would probably find it outside. Nikki and I snuck in through the side and when we got in, we could see the house was in total disarray. Everyone was hiding in the bedrooms to give the illusion that the house wasn’t in full party mode as the neighbors led the police to believe. Which would’ve worked, if only the keg wasn’t right in the middle of the kitchen and the fact that Hadassah and her roommate covered the entire house with plastic, for easy cleaning, later on.
After the police left and tagged the house and everyone left, I fell asleep on the couch and had a really, really weird dream. . I dreamt that Ruby and I got married, only none of our friends were there, just her entire family and my mom and dad. Although there were a lot of people, I felt all alone and wondered what exactly was I doing. I wasnt ready to make such a big commitment, especially with someone I hardly knew. If I was going to make a commitment, it would have to be with someone I knew and it would have to start of real slow. So I went home. As I layed in my bed, Colette just sorta appeared. We got closer…and started to spoon…our bodies pressed close together…our legs entwining…then BOOM! I woke up, before I could get to the best part. If there was a best. And it was exactly that “if” part that made me take a chance, and accept Colette’s invitation. After all, as John Greenleaf Whittier once said, For all sad words of tongue and pen, the saddest are these, 'It might have been'.
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