My last post made it sound as if my visit to Utah was nothing but tender moments and sad memories. That was only at the end in retrospect. After my grandma’s birthday I had a very short time to fit in all the friends and family I could.
It began with a trip to my first wife’s parent’s house. Parents generally like me, Ray Ray’s parents really like me, as her dad put it, “You’re her most normal friend.” It’s incredibly sad if I’m being labeled the normal one. Ray Ray has some of the most colorful friends you’ll ever meet. I mean literally colorful, from the tones of hair to the ink on their skin; a sight to behold, but I digress. Two hours later and we were on our way to a bar that will always be a personal favorite, mainly because it’s the type of cockroach, hole in the wall that not even a bad economy can kill: The Trapp.
Later came wife two and three as well as a slew of friends from all parts of my former life. Add in my favorite bartenders, one of which I’ve gone home with and one which wants me to go home with him and you have a great night. Speaking of the bartender that wants to take me home, after feeding me free drinks that I passed off to friends, no vodka for me thanks, I declared my disappointment that he didn’t even attempt to roofie me, put in some effort. He followed this up by giving me his number, to which I began a text exchange that ended when he provided a semi-nude photo posing on the floor in a jersey with a soccer ball…interesting.
My friends and I drank, laughed and caught up on life. Mind you, I can drink like a real champ in Utah. The way alcohol is measured results in the percentage being less. It comes out this way for me: Three beers in Utah are equal to one beer in the rest of the world. Thank the Lord above they are cheaper than a Utah hooker, otherwise I’d have been sober the entire trip. Also, bars close at 1:00 a.m. meaning the party was forced to my hotel room, bless Ray Ray and her decision to purchase a 30-pack of PBR, yes we were that white trash in the moment.
Each night ended around 4:00 a.m. which was awful as I had to remain on East Coast time and get up three hours later for work related things. During all of this, I managed to sneak in a visit with my sister and her kids. Damn they got old, I recall telling my sister, you’ll be free in eighteen years and here we are seventeen years later. It all works out, as I told my niece and nephew they’ll need to come visit me in the real world so I can corrupt them with fun times.
Other than seeing everyone, my favorite part of this trip was exercising my shock muscles. In New York, everyone has heard everything. Providing shock is difficult, but in Utah it was terribly fun and easy. Anything above “bitch” can invoke a shock, so I was able to pull out what would usually just be normal conversation and freak people out – great times.
This is likely to be the last visit for some time, but I think we made it count, the hangovers definitely suggest so. And the time we had to play was as erratic as the composure of this post.