Lesson 3: Spend It On A Memory

Whether or not I was wearing a bra was the least of her problems.

Side note: this post is probably meant for more mature readers. It's not vulgur by any means...just more...mature.

I awoke with a phone call.

"So I'll be over around noon, is that okay?"
".....sure."
"Red house on Howard, right?"
"....okay."
"Great, see you then!"

Boyfriend: "Who was that?"
Me: "No idea."

I went back to sleep.

I woke up around 11:30. Guess I'll find out whoever's coming over in about half an hour. I got up and tried to navigate my way to the kitchen for a glass of water. I had a pounding headache and was unbelievably thirsty-where the hell was the damn kitchen?

I wasn't in my house. I was in my boyfriend's house. And I was hungover. Ahhh crud.

I remember. The guy coming over was going to look at my furniture. I was moving and wouldn't need most of it, so I was looking to sell what I could. His name was Miles, and he was a friend of my mom's. I remember her telling me he was very shy and quiet, so I needed to keep my sense of humor in check. Mmm hmm....

I found my shoes at the door. Heels. No good. I slipped on a pair of my boyfriend's tennies. These'll have to do.

"I have to run home real quick I'm stealing your car! I'll call you!"
"Yup."
 
I sped home and as I pulled up I saw two gentlemen standing at my door. I got closer and the younger one extended his hand. "Hi, I'm Miles, this is my grandpa. Um...hi."

I don't blame him for being taken aback. My smeared makeup and ratty hair probably made it look like I had spent the night in a gutter. I had the words "Lake Erie" scrawled on my left arm in green permanent marker along with an artist's poor rendition of a giraffe wearing a helmet. I was wearing an oversized Led Zeppelin T-shirt, a pair of baseball shorts, and because of the size difference, what appeared to be clown shoes. I shook his hand and tried to unlock the door - with the wrong set of keys - no luck. I was locked out.

As I pounded on the door and rang the bell for one of my roommates to let us in, I noticed something on the ground. A cake. A cake shaped like a... Oh no... 

It all came back to me. We'd had a bachelorette party for the ages last night. I can't imagine what was waiting for us behind that door. Oh well, no holding back now.

I pointed to the cake on the ground.
"You want some cock cake?"
They stared at me.
"It's funfetti. It's delicious."
Nothing. Tough crowd.

The door opened and a very angry roommate shielded her eyes from the sunlight. She looked at me, looked at the men next to me, turned around and marched back to her room.

Now let me paint you a picture. The house was a disaster. Phallic shaped cakes in a variety of colors and creative frosting techniques covered the countertops. A game of, to put it cleanly, "pin the trouser snake on the beefcake" was hung on the wall and various gag gifts and lingerie were strewn about the floor. Where to start, where to start...

"Well this is the couch," I said, removing a bright pink feathered boa and dusting off an assortment of trouser snakes that had never made it to their designated area. "And this," I said with a sigh, is the television.

Now don't judge me, but as a gag gift we had gone out and searched for what appeared to be the corniest porn movie ever made. We found one clearly made in the 80's, the men sporting fabulous mullets and wearing what looked like wrestling leotards. The cover was hilarious, the star of the movie attempting to look as macho as possible while holding a beachball (why?), his long permed locks flowing in what I'm sure was an artificial breeze. We never actually watched it of course, but nonetheless there it was, in the DVD player, the main menu playing on a constant loop.

"As you can see," I said, "It's in peak working condition."

"Uh huh, " said the grandpa.

My roommate stormed down the stairs and angrily shouted, "I'm going to Taco Bell, what do you want?!"

"I dunno, tacos."

"Fine."

"...and this way to the laundry room..."

Not quite. Our path was blocked by a lifesize reversible blow-up doll. I picked up "Trixie" and continued up the stairs. I showed them the washer and dryer, making sure to point out that they were particularly useful for washing dirty, dirty clothes, and were exceptional at stain removal. Blank stares. Oh come on, that was funny!

I showed them a dresser and a couple of end tables. They nodded in approval. We had agreed on $150 for all of it, and the Grandpa handed me two $100 bills. "Wait here a second," I said. "I'll get some change."

"No no no!" He stammered. "Just keep it. We'll be back later to pick everything up. Miles has your phone number?"

"Yup."

"Great, thanks for showing us everything. He'll call you. Haveaniceday."

If I didn't know any better I'd have thought they were in a hurry to leave. They scurried out the door just as my roommate was returning from her fast food run. We planted ourselves in the living room and ate our breakfast in that grueling hangover silence. After a few minutes she looked up and asked, "Were there people here this morning?"

The phone rang. It was my mom.

"Soo...I just got a call from Miles..."

"Yeah."

"He said I have a very interesting daughter."

"Yeeeaaahh..."

"Please tell me you were wearing a bra..."

"Mom trust me, the bra is the least of your worries."

Now despite my mother's embarrassment along with any inevitable consequences that come with throwing an "approved by me" bachelorette party (what is a ski-boot doing in the freezer?) this is one of my favorite memories. I budgeted for months for this party and spent all I had saved for it, not a penny less. And I it was soooo worth it. 

Lesson learned? Material items may provide that short term rush, but spending the money on an experience is everlasting. If you're going to spend the money, spend it on something you'll be able to take with you for the rest of your life. I got more enjoyment from that night (and the morning after) than I ever could from any shopping spree or fancy dinner out. And someday when I'm 85, I'm sure the memory of funfetti cock cake will still bring a smile to my face.