The Drunken Blog

This past Saturday was WMZQfest, a smorgasbord of delectable country music artists all performing on one day.  Who wouldn’t love something like that?  My opinion of country music has not changed, but I achieved the goal that I set out to accomplish – drink so much that I can’t even realize that it’s a country music concert (by the music).

You see, even a deaf person that can’t read would know that it was a country music concert.  The eclectic mix of white trash, cut off sleeves, confederate flags, pickup trucks, drunk people, plus hot girls lets anybody know that this was in fact a country music concert.  I was impressed.

My friend’s parents describe the concert as slutfest.  The reasoning for this was apparent as soon as we drove into the parking lot.  Even in this 50 degree rainy weather girls were dressed like it was 80 and sunny out.  One of the scary things is how young most of these girls are.  I’ve always had problems guessing the age of girls, but alcohol as helped me guess, but it really only helps in a bar where you have to be a certain age to get in.  At this place everybody was drinking.

As we were driving in Jeff opens the window and shouts to a group of scantily dressed girls, “Hey! What high school do you go to?!”  Their response was Chantilly, to which Jeff replied, “Chantilly sucks! Oakton is where it’s at!”  At this point Michele, who was driving, instituted the child locks on the window as she rolled it up so that Jeff couldn’t make any more lewd comments to innocent little high schoolers.

When we parked in the lot I noticed it was a lot colder outside than I had anticipated.  As I mentioned it was about 50 and rainy.  I was expecting it to be sunny and 70.  I was just glad I decided against my sandals.  Because of this, I am wearing a short sleeved shirt.  If I remained in this garb for the entire day I probably would have frozen to death.  Luckily Michele had an extra sweatshirt; unluckily, it was her size.  I put it on and although it was a bit tight on me, it still fit decently and it was a lot better than the alternative – death.

Since everybody was cold, we decided it would be a good idea to fire up the grill, even though nobody was hungry yet.  The charcoal takes about an hour or so before it’s ready to cook on, anyway.  If there’s one thing that I am slowly starting to learn, it’s that there is such thing as too much lighter fluid.  That’s generally why I buy the self-lighting charcoal, so that I don’t have to deal with lighter fluid.  But whoever bought this charcoal decided having lighter fluid would be more fun.  I would have to agree, and that’s where the problem lies.

We doused the charcoal in lighter fluid and then lit it.  But it didn’t really catch.  A briquette started going, but it quickly went out thanks to the wind.  Jeff and I decided we needed to tag team this so he lit another brick and I took the lighter fluid and used it as a flame thrower of sorts, spraying the juice on the open flame.  I’m pretty sure there is a label just to warn you specifically against doing that.  It worked fine, however, and soon we had a nice little fire going.

For a while everybody stood around the grill, as it was a great source of heat.  Eventually the fire went out.  It’s supposed to, but it’s not as impressive not to have massive flames coming from the grill.  So to fix this we poured some more lighter fluid on the grill; a lot more.  We should have realized when we saw the white smoke coming up that something was not quite right.  But that didn’t stop us from completely ignoring common sense.




Jeff went down to light the mess again and of course as soon as he did a gigantic fireball explodes from the grill.  He only lost the hair on his knuckles, and we all got a good laugh out of it.  So clearly the moral of this story is that lighter fluid can only be a good thing, so use it with reckless abandon.

We eventually started cooking food.  The burgers were pretty horrible, but I guess that’s what happens when you buy lighter fluid-flavored pre-made burgers at Safeway.  I took two bites and then I tried to pawn off the burger on somebody else.  It eventually found its way to the ground, where somebody then decided it could use some ketchup.

While we were cooking our food something super exciting happened.  First I should mention that there are three types of people working in the parking lot: the lot attendants that try to tell you where to park, the cops, and the “security”.  This tale involves the “security” who are really just guys that ride around on Huffys wearing matching yellow shirts.  They don’t actually have any power to do anything, and I’m actually not sure why there are there at all.  Maybe just to make people think that there are people watching them.

As we were grilling, we noticed some girl running away from a security guy.  He was chasing her and he eventually caught up with her and tackled her.  It looked like he was hunting a wildebeest.  He tackled her in much the same way – he grabbed on and just fell, bringing her down to the nice soft gravel with an unsatisfying thud.

He then grabbed her wrist as if he was checking for a pulse (maybe she died in the fall?).  Or maybe he was checking to see if it was broken.  Most likely he was just holding her because he just yearns for that sort of affection at home, err, I mean so that she couldn’t get away.  After that about 7 other security guys came up on their Huffys and parked them in a nice row, I guess they were some sort of support, although none of them actually did anything, so I guess they just wanted to see what was going on.

This girl talked to these security guards for at least 20 minutes.  I think the end result was them giving her a warning of some sort.

Shortly after this Jeff’s sister came by with some of her friends.  We headed off together, the five of us, to find other friends.  As we were walking one of the friends asked us if we could guess how old she was.  I’m not one that should be playing this game, but since Jeff’s sister is hanging out with this girl and she’s 18, I hazarded a guess.  I said 17 or 18.  She was not, though.  In fact, she was very proud of the fact that she was only 15.

She later went on to say that her parents started buying her beer when she was in 6th grade.  Well, at least we know that there will always be a fresh supply of strippers and actors for the adult film industry!  Several times she went to light a cigarette (she started that in the 6th grade, too) and as soon as she would light it, Jeff would take the cigarette out of her mouth and throw it on the ground, he would then proceed to stomp on it for effect.  This girl was not too pleased with him, but who cares, she’s a future stripper, and everybody knows that strippers don’t have feelings.

As we were walking around we came across a girl that had stumbled.  She was wearing a dress and although I really didn’t want to, I felt obligated to take a picture of her.  She really wasn’t attractive (I mean really not attractive), but I stared, much the way I would if I saw a beached whale.  All of her friends seemed to think that it was hilarious.  I thought it was hilarious that she had friends, she must have an awesome personality.

Jeff’s sister and sister’s friends decide, not surprisingly, to leave us.  We head back to our own spot.  The grill is still going so we put some more hotdogs on it.  It’s at this point that I see something odd unfolding.  First I need to draw a picture of the lay of the land.

Cars are parked two deep in each row we have to cars parked next to each other on the front part of the row.  The two cars that are parked behind us we don’t know.  Behind those two cars is empty parking lot.  Our grill and most of us are behind our car but in front of the random car. 

I see two kids walking from the empty parking lot towards our cars.  It looks like they are just going to walk through.  One of the kids trips and falls over the hood of the random car.  He manages to miss a cooler and the propane grill and falls directly on Jeff’s charcoal grill.  He sits there for a while.  I’m a little in shock, but at this point my concert instincts come into play and I go over to help him up.  I’m not sure if he’s getting burned by the charcoal or what, but he doesn’t need to stay there.

Jeff is in shock as well.  He starts yelling at the kids saying that he hates high school kids.  The kid that broke Jeff’s grill has an awesome comeback and says that he hates Jeff; classic.  Jeff then demands that the kid gives him $20 for breaking his grill.  He and his cohort just run away.  While this is funny in and of itself, it’s even funnier if you realize Jeff’s history with grills.  This was his fourth.  It seems as though every year he needs to buy a new one because it either gets stolen or broken in some manner.  Generally when it breaks it’s because of a car running over it.

Jeff was not a fan of high school kids after that event.  If anybody walked by that looked like they might be in high school, Jeff would profess is hatred for them, regardless of whether or not they were actually in high school.

Part 2 to come tomorrow.

Other posts by Justin

This entry was posted on Monday, May 7th, 2007 at 9:38 am and is filed under good times, friends, video, alcohol, girls . You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.