LiLu says it's time for......
***Alright, folks, you know the rules. Join us all in humiliating the crap out of yourself every Thursday by sharing some completely tasteless, wholly unclassy, “how many readers can I estrange THIS week??” TMI story about your life. Or hell, about someone else’s!
Okay, so I didn't take her as a date. At all. Let me start this thing out the right way.
The Missus and I were officially split up for this particular prom, but she'd already bought the dress and neither one of us had anything to do, so we went together. We had dinner, went to prom, and then I dropped her off at her house so I could go party.
Yeah, I know, I'm a keeper.
Anyway, Kid Funk, myself, a friend of mine who we'll call Squints, and my cousin who was going with Squints all packed into our vehicles to head out to Four Mile Road. We get to the spot, and there really wasn't much to do. Turns out, my cousin liked Kid Funk better than she like Squints. As it also turned out, that feeling was accelerated by alcohol consumption. As it ALSO turns out, she was the best damned drinker I've ever seen in my life. She walked right up to a guy, took his bottle of Hot Damn, and chugged about half of it in a single gulp. She then proceeded to drink everything Kid Funk sat in front of her, which included Peach Schnopps and Coronas.
I was not much into the drinking, and I wanted to leave the party earlier. (I was a tee totaler until I turned 21. Never touched alcohol until then.) Since I was her ride, my cousin had to come with me. My drunk cousin. Since my drunk cousin was all hunched up on Kid Funk, he wanted to follow us home. (He wasn't drinking either.) Since Kid Funk was gettin hunched on instead of him, and since Kid Funk was his ride, Squints went with The Funk.
Any road named Four Mile is gonna be a winding country road. John Denver style. I get into my car, my drunk cousin gets in my car, and the first thing I say is, "Don't throw up in my car." She says, "I never throw up when I drink." I think maybe all the times she'd drank, she'd stayed kind of still. I was about to take her down 2 miles of John Denver hell.
We get maybe a half mile down the road, and she gives me The Look. You know the one. The one you get when you realize that maybe Hot Damn and Peach Schnopps aren't the best combo in the world. Or maybe the look you get when a democrat is elected president... (Seriously, I'm kidding.) Either way, she gave me The Look. I rolled down my window faster than a man who's just farted in the car on his first date. She looks out the window, looks back at me, and throws up all over my floorboard.
I won't repeat the names I called her.
We got back to Squints house with no further incident, and I told her to say goodbye to her date and her hunchee. I start driving her home to her house 30 miles away, and in my rear view mirror I see lights flashing. Here I am, with a drunk COUSIN in my car, in a dress, with throw up on the floor. I'm going to jail. Turns out, it's just Kid Funk, and he's saying that everyone at Squint's house thinks I should bring her back. Giving him a prompt "hell no," I went on my way.
When we arrived at her house, she was not even in a conscious state. I had to push her a few times and maybe slap her gently a couple times. I wanted to do much, much more. She woke up, opened the door, gathered her dress around herself, and passed out on her front lawn.
Folks, I DROVE OFF. I left my cousin laying passed out in her prom dress on the front lawn. Call me what you want, but a man can only take so much. That's real. I immediately went to hose out my car, and try to find a place open 24 hours to buy air fresheners.
I've never spoken to that cousin again, or any of her immediate family. I don't suppose I ever will. I think they should thank me though. I could have left her in that house with Squints and Kid Funk. I'm pretty sure The Funk has more class than taking advantage of a passed out prom princess, but Squints for sure woulda loved her up. I was just pertexting her honor.
So yeah, I've taken my cousin home after prom. Wanna fight about it?