A lot has happened since my World Series Friday photoblog, which I ineptly and foggily filed at about 2 in the morning, thus leaving out crucial details of that St. Louis baseball evening. Which is where I must pick up my story.
With the overserving of Budweiser Select beer, I thought Game 4 was going to be the scene of my first adult public piss-in-pants moment. There is a serious flaw in the new Busch Stadium in the form of a massive shortage of urinals, thus creating a dichotomy to the standard backlog of ladylines.
Waiting to pee, surrounded by a deep sea of red, a fellow potential bladder exploder three people back screamed a question about where I got my sweatshirt. When I stepped up to pee he started asking if it was a Nike sweatshirt. I told him it was and that I got it at some Cardinal Gear hub years ago. I was peeing at the point that he yelled, in front of a ton of urinal-waiters, "That's kind of a powder blue color, though. It's kind of a FAIRY color." The gauntlet was drawn. In front of others. I told him he could talk all he wanted about my sweatshirt because I was so happy to finally be peeing after waiting 10 minutes and that he was still waiting in misery so he could just keep blabbing about it and that wouldn't change where he was (misery) and where I was (heaven). The crowd was on my side and I was feeling it.
"Furthermore, look at what YOU'RE wearing!" I screamed, feeling the master-of-the-Universe buzz that only comes from ice-cold Budweiser Select. "I don't like anything you have on at all so you can keep it up about this sweatshirt! I love this sweatshirt!" I got cheered by the crowd in the bathroom and all put up their fists to touch to mine as I fought my way out in a sign of solidarity that you just don't see enough of these days. Even my foe, the lager lout, sheepishly surrendered his fist as if to say, "You got me buddy!" The night ended with my friend and I getting turned away at the President Casino, a barely floating (formerly glorious?) riverboat.
We were told by the "doorman" that we were too inebriated to get into the gutter of the gutter! I gots to say that we were not in bad shape and you should've seen what was walking past us to get in this joint! Getting turned away at the front door of the President Casino on the banks of the Mississippi was a genius way to end a stunner of a night.
I fell out of a cab this Saturday night worse than I stumbled out of that one in St. Louis, and you should've seen who let me in her door! This weekend started with the Cardinals winning the freaking Series on Friday night. It was so exciting that I can't possibly summarize it on this keyboard. I had been at the series-winning game in '82 with my Mom and so it was awesome to see it happen again.
Saturday I spent some quality West Village time with Daniel V., who is a dreamboat with a shag crown. He was on his way to get it cut, and I am hoping that it was more of a trim. Saturday night I turned a group high off the fact that we were falling back an hour into dance-fanatics for the ridiculous song that had us all hopped up 24 years ago, "Ghostbusters." Listen to the lyrics to that song ASAP and wonder how insane you were 24 years ago for feeling that shit. There is a moment near the end when Ray Parker sings, "Bustin' makes me feel good!" and I re-sung this moment for the rest of the night and the rest of the weekend.
I hope someone asks me to sing this hook at some point this week because all I want to do is sing it to anyone who will listen because it is so stupid. Sunday afternoon I got a call on my cell phone from someone who immediately put their phone up to their speaker, which was jamming the Teena Marie classic "Square Biz".... I knew immediately that it was my friend Michael giving me a Sunday Scoop of another piece of 80s classic from Miss T-Marie.
I watched four episodes of Amazing Race yesterday and have to say this season is as genius as it ever could be. I had been so down with the six-pack alliance, particularly the coal miners, up until last night but I may have reached my threshold for their stupidity, which for me is saying a lot.