Tuesday, March 24, 2009

In Nebraska, I'd be a grandma by now

On February 28th, I celebrated my 30th birthday along with a friend (Rick) who was turning 33. I’m a huge theme party fan. For my 29th birthday, I planned a whole Rambo Bar Golf outing with matching t-shirts and everything. Of course, since my 30th is a much bigger deal, I needed an even better party right. I wanted everyone to dress up without having to go out and buy costumes. Hence the White Trash Party! Hell, I had plenty of choices of things to wear. Seriously, I have a sweat shirt with ‘Walmart’ embroidered across it…in four inch letters! I also have a fanny pack and trucker hat from Bargain World which is a remnant from my family’s Florida vacation back in the early 90’s. I finished the outfit with a giant cross necklace, because if I have learned anything from watching COPS on TV, I know that white trash love them some Jesus…praise Jesus!!! My friends took the theme and ran with it showing up in various John Deere, NASCAR, and confederate paraphernalia. Jensen even grew out his facial hair into a Hulk Hogan stache…that is dedication!

The bar was a tiny dive located near Wicker Park. I wanted a dive because A) the beer would be cheap and B) we could totally take it over. This place only served a handful of beers where PBR was considered top shelf. The real sell was the free ping pong in the back. Yes…PING PONG!

In true dive style, the group ordered in pizza, played cards, darts, ping pong and eventually flippy cup. The game was totally impromptu…we have cups…we want to drink…lots. A group of 5 on 5 eventually expanded to 8 on 8. Another group started up across the room and before the night was over, the two groups challenged each other in a massive 14 on 14 game. Well several games. We eventually drank the bar out of Hams (shitty beer) and had to switch to PBR which was a $1 more. Towards midnight, the bar kicked us out for seriously depleting their beer reserves. I frankly think the four regulars were made at us monopolizing the juke box (yes you do need to hear ‘my humps’ eight times in a row) and back room. At least getting thrown out of a dive bar is in line with the white trash theme right.

Pictures say a thousand words. In this case, it would involve a lot of y’all and t-ain’t as well as some hoot’n and hollar’n.


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