Friday, March 27, 2009

The beer keeper, keeper of beer.

We learn a lot in adolescence. We learn about rations and portions in social situations.
Now, I’m not certain if everyone has had this happen but, I can recall an instance where I attended what we called “a wop” which is in reference to the drink served at the party. The drink involves a large storage bin with various liquors filled up about half way in the bin to equal parts or less juice and chopped up fruit, they throw in a ladle and if they’re smart the place the bin outdoors. It’s awful, because through out the night the juice becomes contaminated with pieces of grass, tiny bugs, bobby pins, and someone’s shoe is floating around in there also it gets everywhere on you and it gets sticky. It’s a horrid idea, a wop. I suggest making a fine sangria and downsizing the invite list if you are going that route.
I attended this wop via van with a few friends when I was real young. My friends had an idea to slowly steal supplements of the wop with our $5 plastic cups and empty them out into a large container in the van while someone watched over our ever-growing master supply. At the end of the night we had kind of a lot of wop. We didn’t drink it because we were already drunk and the idea of more sounded lousy. I think we had more fun playing secret mission then we did acquiring a stupid amount of useless wop. What I thought was interesting is that we designated someone to watch over the supply in the van or I should say he designated himself, a little selfish, but smart. He choose the best role; avoid the crowds, avoid the sticky mess, avoid the busy work, sit in the van drink wop enjoy your own company for once.
This girl reminds me of that role. Sorry for the length of this post there was no other way around it, if anything it makes up for the lack of posts from the last couple of days.

And then a wee bit of faith in her role gets lost when you see her throw up little and try to hide her inebriation.

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