Mavrick and I rang in the New Year the way god intended: buck naked and groggily high-fiving each other because it appeared we had made it back to our hotel room.
It was pitch black. He looked at me (I think). I looked at him (again, it was pitch black, it could have been the headboard. Who knows?). There was a knock at the door. We both jump.
Lightly accented voice outside of door – Housekeeping!
Mavrick – Are you serious? It’s what, 6:30 in the morning? Really? Housekeeping? REALLY?
Lightly accented voice outside of door – *shufflesofftonextroom*
Me – What the hell… what time is it?
I stumble out of bed, fumble around in the darkness for my phone. I look at my phone.
Me- There is no way…. *shakesphone*
Mavrick – What?
Me – You have got to be… *grabs work blackberry*… no freaking WAY!
Mavrick – WHAT?
Me – grabs Mavrick phones, shakes that, too….’Sweetie. It’s 11:00 in the morning.’
Mavrick – *thunk*
Let me explain.
We haven’t slept in past 7:00 am since early 2010. This, to us, was the best possible way to start the New Year! That and sex. So we had sex, then we sat down to piece together what happened the night before. It started a little something like this…. (cue dreamy swirly video to flash back sequence)
Mavrick’s step-sister, Ali (who I will NOT be skewering on the blog because a.) she is awesome, and b.) see previous post about boxing) was having a fondue/New Year’s Eve party at her amazingly swank loft home in gorgeous downtown Dayton, OH.
I think I speak for all of us when I say that if you ever get a chance to visit Dayton, you go. Okay. In all fairness, maybe you haven’t thought that. But Dayton is actually quit lovely, and we decided what the hell, let’s pack up the truck and head into adventure!
We were further motivated by the fact that Ali had recently gone through a Dee-vorce, and not only was this her first newly single and ready to mingle New Year’s Eve, but her ex, the usually affable Bama, was having a competing party with his new girlfriend. Right.Across.The.Street. This would not do.
So off we went to Dayton, with nothing but a duffle bag and good intentions.
The whole night started out innocently enough, with Mavrick and I stopping across the Ohio border to get 22 OZ cans of Colt 45 malt liquor (ancient family tradition). We then made our way to our hotel, the Dayton Grand, and got ourselves comfy.
By got comfy I mean, of course, polish off Colt 45’s and a bottle of SkinnyGirl Sangria. We then walk to Ali’s house to begin the party. We cracked open some wine, and that’s about my last full, non-fuzzy memory.
According to Mavrick’s step-sister in law, who doesn’t drink, let’s call her Soberella, the following occurred:
I called one of the lovely guests a ‘grown ass man with a pony tail’. When Mavrick was then asked if I was always this rude, he shrugged and said ‘basically, yes.’ (Don’t worry. I’ve been told I smoothed things over with said guest).
I walked around at midnight, brandishing not one but two bottles of champers, loudly saying, ‘WHO NEEDS CHAMPERS? ANYONE NEED CHAMPERS? WHO NEEDS SOME EFFING CHAMPERS? ANYONE? NO? OKAY!’ then chugged directly out of both bottles. At the same time.
I asked all of the party guests if they had any idea how much I paid for that champagne. Made strange by the fact that I had not purchased one single bottle of champagne for the party.
I went down to allegedly smoke, but apparently I really wanted to run recon on above mentioned competing party. I’ve heard that didn’t end so well. They won’t tell me why.
Those are the items I can tell you about. I would like to thank Soberella for filling in the details that we had forgotten. We felt very much so like we were in Hangover 3 – Down and Out in Dayton, half expecting a monkey to jump on the bed, or a forgotten infant to squall out from the bar fridge.
I want to thank Ali for a lovely time, and for introducing me to the concept of a ‘fondue faux pas’. I would also like to thank Mavrick’s step brother, Browns Fan (really, I don’t feel like that particular blog name needs an explanation) and his lovely wife, Soberella, for hosting us the next day.
I spent my New Year’s surrounded by the love of my life, family, and friendship. I really can’t remember a better New Year’s. I can’t really remember this one, either, but hey. You know what I mean.
Yours in holiday hangovers,