Friday, June 23, 2006

Imagine A Little Cloud...

Why do I do this?
I go out every Thursday night and wake up feeling like I was just run over by an insane German train engineer. (Joke---I mean about the German) It's not because I drink lots of Vodka and cranberry...Well maybe it is...but I would like to pretend that it's REALLY the fact that I only get like 3 hours of sleep. I would have gotten more sleep but the coveted "last song of the night" spot was handed to me on a silver platter, and who am *I* to look a karaoke gift horse in the mouth? So Jen and I stayed later than planned....but not before a boy asked me to dance, and Jen MADE me. Bitch. 

Ok so usually this would be a good thing. was not. His name was Michael...and he wore yellow feathers in his hair. OK let's rewind for a moment. Michael is insane. He admits that. He told Jen that when he was 9 years old he was 
schizophrenic, then jut DECIDED not to be anymore. Wow, if only all wack jobs would do that, the world would be a better place. (Let's start with all my ex's K?) He also frequently sings Fairy Manalow songs like Copacabana. Um yeah...If you are out there, and you are thinking about doing this? DON'T...It's never a good idea unless you are gay. Don't worry though He then told Jen, that he knows he's not gay because he tested that out. Um wow! Michael, Jen, and I have a in common so we felt obligated to talk to him. OK The truth is...I hid, and they found me dammit. So at some point, I hear Mr. Fruit loop say he goes to UCLA(of course...Most insanity is spawned at UCLA). Now, I know I should have just sat there sipping my grape Kool-Aid (OH YEAH!)....but I love UCLA football, so I shout "Go Bruins!" I knew when I said it, that it was a poorly planned idea...Mainly because it wasn't planned. He stops mid sentence and said he hated the bruins, because he watched a football player run over someone. mhm k. So I just shrug at Jen, and he continues to talk about poetry with her. She seems interested so I don't save her. Oh how she will repay in just moments. Our little "Diva In Training" got up to sing 99 red balloons. Right about then I was thinking "RAPTURE NOW!". Not because she was singing, but because I hear these words come out of Jen's mouth. "Debi LOVES to dance" It was like one of those moments that happens in a dream, where you want to run but your legs wont move, and you feel like it's all in slow motion. Michael looked at me like a fat kid looks at cake...I protested, but he grabbed me and dragged me on to the dance floor. We were the ONLY ones on the floor. *Insert look of horror here* 

I'm not sure what he was doing. It's like some weird swing dancing that only schizo's know, because yeah, I tried to follow I really did, to no avail. Apparently I was a little tense, I don't know WHY? Um HELLO? McFly?! So he kept pulling me closer and saying things to me in a weird Spanish accent. (He's not Spanish) It went like this... 

Horrified look on my face while glaring at Jen, and giving her the SU FI. 

Debi: Wow, yes, um I should go now. 

Michael: Reeelax a leetal. 
Debi: Oh you know, I JUST can't...I don't relax well. 

He pulls me closer and proceeds to trample all over my beautiful feet (I am in flip flops)

Debi: You know I have to um sing soon and you yeah I can't dance to this song. 

Michael(Spanish accent): Have joo ever been to a Central American discotec? 

Debi: um, wow, ya know...I can honestly say no I have not. I should go there now! 

I tried to flee, looking at my new favorite bouncer for help--he was too busy falling over laughing and making mopping motions with his "air mop" to help.
Michael(MORE Spanish accent): Relllllaaaaax....Imagine a leetal cloud in da sky.
WTF? A LEETAL CLOUD? Um yeah...I kind of went to my happy place right then so as not to weep. Thankfully the song ended shortly after that.

I was going on and on about it in the car, telling Jen how much I hated her when she yelled

"Just Shut up and Drunk Dial." So I did. Tom laughed at the whole story... 

I may NEVER be the same again.

The good news is...I am getting my floors mopped. MEOW!

No comments:

Post a Comment