Here I am.
I have so much to share I don't even know where to start. Sooooo, as promised, I want to tell you about the fam's super duper vacation in Oklahoma. The whole week was pretty awesome. Not having any family in Philly, I sometimes forget how nice it is to spend time with my people. I am so lucky to have married into a big family. Good times, good food and free childcare...yeah, me likey.
So The Hub's 25-year high school reunion was interesting. While we were there, I kept having flashes of the movie Romy and Michelle. It wasn't a huge crowd, and The Hubs didn't recognize most of the people there. The ones he did mention, I demanded their entire background. After all, I need a conversation starter, right? I kept reminding myself that a lot of these people were conservative, church-going people. Note to self: don't swear and, especially, don't say fuck.
He brought up a few women's names and, naturally, my first question to him was "did you fuck her?"
So it went something like this:
The Hubs: Oh that's Sheila so-and-so...
Me: Did you fuck her?
The Hubs: No. And that's Beth so-and-so...
Me: Did you fuck her?
The Hubs: No.
Oops, I just broke my swearing law, didn't I?
Me: Honey! I'm so disappointed in you! She's hot!
Apparently my husband wasn't the lady's man until college. Hopefully he doesn't ask me that question when we go to my 25th...
Did you fuck him?
Anyway, so let's move on to the drive home after the reunion when we came across the body laying in the street at 12am, because that's what y'all want to hear about, right? Yeah, I know it.
Let me set the scene for you:
The Hubs and I were relatively bored with the reunion so we left early, planning to hit a bar that his college friend managed before going home. It was dark, The Hubs didn't exactly know where the bar was or how to get there. We made a wrong turn, flipped a U turn. (I will never forget this image) once we turned, the headlights panned over the street and there was a man, head on the curb, feet laying straight out into the street in front of us.
The first thing I remember is thinking "is this really happening?" And then hearing The Hubs saying "HOLY SHIT."
Ehhh, is he dead? Did he get hit by a car? Am I going to see blood and guts tonight? As a criminal justice major, I know that cops see this shit all the time. But for us civilian folk, not so much. Let's see, interesting reunion, on our way to a bar, uh oh, dead body pit stop!
I was relieved that The Hubs had the same thought I did...we needed to stop. In retrospect, it was a dangerous thing to do. But how could we not?
If you're still with me, hang in there. This is where it gets good.
The Hubs pulled over and we looked at each other and nodded. We had to get out and investigate. We slowly walked up to him and, thankfully, his eyes were open.
And, not only were they open, they were cracked out open. Not only that, he had his cell phone in one hand and his ID in the other.
Am I really standing here in my flashy reunion dress and heels, at midnight, standing on some dark road in OK with a cracked out guy laying in the street?
So I start talking to him, asking him questions, mostly just to keep him busy and still. Did you get hit by a car? Are you hurt? What's your name? Give me your ID. I'm calling the cops to come and take you to the hospital....
It became apparent that this guy was gay (not that there's anything wrong with that!). He wanted nothing to do with me, but was very happy to have The Hubs sit next to him on the curb while we waited for the police hehe. Since we didn't know where we were, it took three phone calls with dispatch for the cops to find us. In the meantime, the dude was obviously freaked out and asked for lots of hugs from The Hubs...and now that I knew he was OK, I silently giggled at this because The Hubs, bless his concerned heart, actually offered him hugs (while he was still laying in the street). On the third call to dispatch, this guy realized he might be going to jail and completely turned on me. I watched his cracked out eyes watch me talk to dispatch, and he flipped. He screamed at me "I'm older than you! I have a college degree! You only care about your looks!"
Ummmm, what the fuck, dude? Because I have a dress on? Might I remind you that you're hugging on my husband?
Maybe we should have stayed in the car and called the cops.
After chatting with cracked-out guy for awhile, we realized that he didn't get hit by a car. We guessed he took drugs at a party, his brother (who was his ride) got fed up with him and made him get out of the car on the way home. Cracked-out-drama-king dude couldn't find his way home so, as a solution, passed out in the street hoping someone would stop for him.
The cops did finally come (after waiting 30 minutes with the crazy man ugh) and funnily, one of the cops recognized him from picking him up just the week before. When the cop asked how he was going to get home, his cracked-out eyes looked directly at me, he raised his finger up and pointed at me.
Oh, HELL no.
He ended up getting arrested, and The Hubs and I were able to leave when this was happening. I probably would've felt bad for the guy if he'd been a little nicer to my poor, well dressed, very straight Stepford Wife ass.
So cracked out dude went to jail, and The Hubs and I found a different bar to have our nightcap at before going home. Lots of cowboy hats, Metallica music and cheap drinks. Gotta love Oklahoma.
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