Impromptu Happy Hour

You know that group of friends that can jump on a happy hour faster than a kid chasing an ice-cream truck? Those are my friends. My work crew. So of course, last night while conducting a freshman orientation session (those are such joy!), my co-worker told me "Hey, everyone is running over to the new craft beer place across the street to check it out."

To which I said: "Well, let's hurry this shit up and get over there!"

 Because it's beer, y'all. And beer with this gang can lead to anything. Anything.

Last night: Beer. Nachos. Conversations about another alehouse that sports ten dollar ginormous hot dogs and a hamburger called the BAMF, which of course stands for Big Ass Mother Fucker, and well all screamed HELL YA!! We need to go there just for THAT!

Then, it led to conversations on a road trip to Vegas with everyone crammed into one room with air mattresses and drinking all night, then attending the graduation ceremony of the youngest padawan as he becomes a mini-Jedi-warrior.

Then it changed to the wedding planning of the same dude that got me the f-out of freshmen orientation hell, and his arrangements for the location, photographer, videographer, the dj, and omigod....my relief that I'm running out of town for that shit (hell, I'm going out of the country!) and don't have to deal with the family drama surrounding all THAT. Then he announced that his lovely wife-to-be had found her dress. DRESS? Fuck. Their wedding is in December. Mine is in July. I haven't found a dress. I haven't even started looking. BUT I did find two fantastic bathing suits and a giant hat for lying on the beach and my kindle is loaded up with all kinds of trashy novels to read. Note to self: GET ON THAT DRESS SHIT PRONTO!

Which then led to the issue of a bachelor  /bachelorette party. Combo. Both of us in one shot. Fine, this could be fun, right? Um, then midget strippers came into play. And a party-bus with a stripper pole inside. Then a Thor-look-alike stripper because I have this whole Marvel/Thor-crush going on.

This is when I got the hell out of dodge and head home, telling the man about the conversation I just left. He asks "Will it include Bridget the Midget?"

 WHO?? WHAT???

What. The. Fuck? How does he know the actual name of a midget stripper? And why was he smiling? Who have I been living with?? 

Of course, then evening ended with the man doing the Michael Jackson Beat-It dance in the backyard while we were listening to music, grilling steaks and drinking more beer (okay, HE was grilling, I sat and watched. and laughed at his MJ moves).

Little did I know that after I left the bar, the dudes still there actually GTS (that's Googled That Shit in case you didn't know...) and CALLED a stripper asking if the THOR costume was cool.
According to said professional "it's all good, just let us know.". FML.

Just a day in the life my friends.....just a day in the life. Life is good.