So last night I went to Ruthie's birthday party at Colleen's house. There was an eclectic group of people there to celebrate her (age unpublished at time of print) birthday. Due to several crazy things last night I proclaimed that I would actually blog about this.
Some were people she knew professionally and some socially. A large contingent of partygoers were watching the LSU at South Carolina football game. We were all intermingling while some people would leave to grab beer for a few people every so often. At one point Scottie Too Hottie and I were watching the game while discussing who-knows-what when this guy walked up and engaged us in a politely awkward conversation (we'll call him "dude" and imagine him with a French accent because that's how it was):
Dude: Are you watching the game?
Us: Uh, yeah.
Dude: I was wondering if I could change the channel.
Me: What do you want to watch?
Scottie Too Hottie: I bet he wants to watch Sex and the City.
Dude: Why would you think I would want to watch Sex and the City?
Me: We don't. He was just messing with you dude. So what do you want to watch?
Dude: I want to watch the UFC fight. I assume that you are not UFC fans.
Me: Well not on a Saturday during college football season.
At this point he left the conversation. He had a strong French accent, or so I thought (I later found out that he's Turkish or something). We were both taken aback. We paused before looking at each other and simultaneously asking "what the F was that about?" We passed this funny tale around among several friends in the immediate vicinity. While we were all basking in the crazy moments that had just passed, "dude" walked back into the room and started pushing buttons on remotes. At this point the crowd had enough. "Hey man" "What do you think you're doing?" "We're watching that."
After not finding the remote for the cable box, dude left the room only to return with Colleen. She helped him find the remote despite the general protests of...well everyone. He put it on the UFC fight. I left the room to grab a beer before I got really pissed off. When I came back the game was back on and Colleen was explaining how she couldn't understand what he wanted due to his (oddly generic European?) accent. She is one of those people who is too nice to tell someone a flat out no, so we didn't really fault her.
The majority ruled for the rest of the game. After the game was over, people left the TV room and dude ran to change the tv to the UFC fight. I went and hung outside for a while. I later went back in and hung out with dude to give him the benefit of the doubt. He is a big UFC fan as well as an ultimate fighter trainee. He was actually a nice guy. I guess that he just didn't know how to approach the situation. Still kinda funny.
Later on, I was outside when I witnessed a friend in trouble. While I was telling a funny story, she was being trapped by a poor, highly inebriated woman. She kept looking to our group where her boyfriend stood blissfully unaware of what was going on (sorry, dude, but it's true). Anywho, I walked over and offered to get them a beer (and my friend an out of the situation). I was quickly told that they were fine. While my friend was sitting there in horror, the poor drunk girl was leaning in a little bit further and further as she obviously conveyed what tough times she is going through or whatever. After a while, I went inside and found a friend of the second girl and mentioned that maybe she should go out there in a few minutes to pull the reins of her friend. The brother knew better he went to this girl and told her that she needs to take care of her friend before she really embarassed herself. She did this properly of course, and DG was taken home.
After the party had officially wound down, I went with the Brother, Natalie, Colleen, and Natalie from out of town to the Blue Monkey. It was a fun but rather uneventful time. There were stories shared and laughs among all of us. One funny thing was this girl in a Janis Joplin coat and a bare midriff playing pool. The immediate feelings around the table were along the lines of shock and awe before everyone agreed that she had the confidence and abs to pull it off.
The best part of our time at the Blue Monkey was the discussion about phone numbers. I'm not sure how it came up exactly, but one of the girls made the comment that her phone number in her dorm spelled 678-DORK. The brother said that his phone number spelled HOT-LOVE. The girls didn't fully believe it. I said "oh yeah, it's completely true." I explained the story about how we found out:
"We were at the tent for an Ole Miss game when one of our sister's friends was putting his number in her phone. When she finished, she sat quietly for a few minutes while the rest of us continued to chat and party. Suddenly, she said 'OMG, your phone number is HOT-LOVE.' She proceeded to tell us that she has this thing where she figures out what people's numbers spell out."
After I told the girls at the Blue Monkey this story, they believed that the Brother's phone number does in fact spell HOT-LOVE. Umm...I have a confession: it was a complete on the spot BS story. I made it up right then and there.
Girls, I'm sorry but when you each had that look of complete belief in such an obviously fake story, I couldn't come clean then. It's still funny as hell to me though.
Have a good one.