DD (not cups, but 'designated driver')

So I had another interesting night today. I will explain it now with the names changed to protect the indentity of the parties involved.

So the night begins with a dinner at Tony Roma's because I wanted some ribs and chicken. while I was pulling out of my garage, I got a call from Rebecca to see if she could get a ride home with me. Sure, I said. I was thinking I would want somebody to drive me home if I wanted to get drunk. But now that I think of it, only Roger, Roberta, and my sister have ever driven me when I was drunk. I went to pick up Roger and Roberta. We had our dinner and went to my house because I had to change. I put on my brand new eBay shirt and sprayed a squirt of Contradiction and we headed out for Ruth's house to pick her up. On the way, we picked up a bottle of Greg Norman Cab-Merlot for the birthday girl, Rae. Then we went to Rae's house for some pre-party action.

At Rae's house, we did some mingling around. I didn't know the majority of the people, including the emo guy with the emo glasses and wearing the emo pink polo. Some people were drinking, and some people, like Rebecca, were just talking. I was the designated driver, so of course I didn't drink. I kinda wanted to try the wine, even though I don't like wine. Anyways, I did dress up a little to try to impress Rachel. She was looking good in a borrowed top. Now Roger found a guitar and started playing some stuff. Ruth, Roberta, Rebecca, Rachel, Roger, and other people including myself were just chilling on the couches when a couple guys came in. Let's just collectively call these guys "Randoms," because there were quite a few of them. The Randoms came in like a hurricane, drinking beers like a mofucker. This is when the attention shifted from the general to the Randoms. I always say that I wish that I had a camera, but now I just wish that I had PictBridge capability and an 8 GB Compact Flash memory card built into my brain. I could've shown everyone the eyes wide open stares the girls had for the Randoms, whilst one of the Randoms was drinking his 40 oz. Wow, do I sound jealous? Yes. I didn't care about the girls, except for Rachel. As Bon Jovi puts it, "I wish I was him; with those words of mine; to say to you till the end of time." Meh, the night had just begun, there's more time for me. Rachel asked if she could get a ride home with me from the Armoury and of course I said yes. Now with some time spent looking at Rae's bike (Softride), and talking about her bike and her recent bike shopping, I gained a brand new respect for her. Rae is a good girl. It's now about 10:30 and it's time to head out to the Armoury people! I put some of Rachel's stuff in my trunk, and we (myself, Roger, Rebecca, Ruth, and Roberta) load into my car and we drive to the Armoury.

We get to the parking lot and Rachel drops of her coat in my car and we do a mad dash to the door without our jackets on. We hand in our ticket and get two free highball drink tickets. Moving in, it is crazy busy, not! It is about 11 o'clock now and no one is on the dance floor. I go to a bar to drink and/or dance. When I can't drink, all I can do is dance, and nobody is dancing! It's gotta heat up sometime. In the meanwhile, we start moving around. First downstairs, and then upstairs. I grab Rae a vodka slime and she seems to enjoy it. Time moves on and people are still talking rather than dancing (which maybe because of the music that was playing). Then a little while later, Robyn walks in. I kinda have a thing for her too. So now you are wondering who's on my mind? Let's say in no particular order: Rachel, Robyn, and Rae. A group of four guys grace the dance floor while we move back downstairs. They play a relatively good hip hop song and people start moving to the dance floor. Excellent. It's the perfect time to dance for me when people just start to dance because there is still room on the dance floor. I didn't do anything crazy to attract any attention, but I did have some good fun. It seemed like you had to be a grote witte jongen (Dutch) to attract any of the attention from the girls tonight. Another jealousy-slash-selfish feeling from me? Yes. You are probably asking, why don't I just do some more crazy things if I want the attention? I probably should, but it's not my style, and yes, I guess I should stop complaining then. I was having a good time though, dancing with the peeps is fun. Eventually, fairly early, some of the people left. This left a smaller crowd. Then Robyn left, which left a smaller crowd. Rae, Rebecca, Rachel, Ruth and the Randoms moved up top to dance to I Touch Myself. I really wish I could dance to that, but I just can't. I can listen to the song, but I can't move to the beat. Let alone amidst some fairly old bar patrons. Back downstairs now, which the dance floor is packed to capacity (so much so that girls started to dance on the speakers; I'm pretty sure they weren't up there to show off their "hot bodies"). Roberta was chilling with Raphael on the stools and so was Roger. As much as I wanted to dance, there was basically no room. It was more like a mosh pit than a dance floor. All the guys were just bouncing off of each other with their hands up while the girls stayed in tight circle formation (aka junior high formation). I don't remember quite how long I sat there, but Roberta joined me on the dance floor for a few songs, so that I didn't look like a loner/loser. I had a few good conversations with Rachel, it was good stuff. I was getting tired and so was Roger. Ruth was trying to call her boyfriend (often mistaken for the number 1 golfer in the world). I lent her my phone and told Rachel that we should go. She was totally cool with it, while earlier on Rebecca's attitude about leaving was less than stellar. I'm sorry, but I just wasn't enjoying sitting at a bar listening to loud music. Just go upstairs to dance then, dummy! Like I said earlier, I can't dance to stuff like You Give Love A Bad Name (although it makes for a wonderful volleyball warm-up song), and I'm not a Random. Rachel said she'd do her goodbyes and head downstairs. Beep-beep-beep, I hope my remote started the car! Sorry to break of your fun with the Randoms girls, but please understand my side as well. *Mad dash to the Civic*

On the drive home, Rebecca asked if I minded because they were all-up-ons the Randoms. Hmmm, maybe she understands a little. Anyways, did I feel used today? Isn't that what all designated drivers are though, used? Yes. It felt like more than usual though. Enough to make me write this blog which has taken me over an hour. Earlier on, I talked about how a blog is like talking behind someone's back. Well yes it kind of is and I'm doing it right now. And right now I feel like writing it out is better than keeping it in. Will it matter if some random reads this? No, but it will matter that someone else knows what I'm feeling. I probably missed so many things, but that's a pretty good idea of what happened tonight, g'night now.

By the numbers:
# of Bon Jovi references: 2
# of golfer references: 2
# of girls on my mind: 3
# of beers I had while writing this blog: 1
# of hours it took to write this blog: 1.5
# of R names used in this blog: 8
# of kilometers I probably drove tonight starting from my house after dinner: 50
# of times I wanted to leave, but didn't want to disappoint Rachel: 3
# of basic moves I used on the dance floor: 7
# of times I answered a question with a simple "Yes.": 3