Memoir Monday - Mardi Gras Mayhem

(Hey guys and gals. It's Memoir Monday time! This is where you write down a story about yourself, steal my button down there, drink a beer, and call it all a win. The only rule is that it has to be true, other than that, there are no rules. I need you to join this week! Once you post, let me know, and I will link you up down there for all my kick ass bloggy followers to go and read! Y'all are the greatest, and I love you. If you want to see all the Memoir Monday posts, just click on the brand new button!!)

It's at this time of year that I get homesick. Mardi Gras is a tradition celebrated for many, many years in the area I grew up. As a child, it was one of my absolute favorite holidays. We got out of school for three days! What kid doesn't get excited about a school closing???


This is not me or my friends.  This is just a pic I found with google.
You get the idea, though.  Mardi Gras is not for amateurs.

As a teenager, it was a vital part of my social existence. Being at such and such parade was more important than being at the homecoming football game. I didn't visit my dying grandfather in the hospital, but you can bet your sweet ass I was at the Pass parade. (I was a self-absorbed teen with no good sense. Don't worry; karma has been kicking my ass ever since.)

Skipping out on the final hours of my grandfather's life was not the only stupid thing I did as a teen. Nope. Dating Scotty was the dumbest. Hands down. Scotty was my first experience with a "bad" boy. He was originally my sister's boyfriend. He was very sexy with jet black hair and blue/green eyes. Scotty never had problems getting girls. He looked hot in his parachute pants and could break dance better than anyone I knew.

Any way... My sister went out of town one weekend, and Scotty moves in on me. We did it. (I was an awful sister, too. Now you know why Karma is such a bitch to me.)  It was my "first" time. Of course, it was coerced and totally against my will. Afterwards he said he loved me, though, and the rest was history. We began doing it regularly dating. It makes me nauseas just thinking about it.

Fast forward a year or so... It's Mardi Gras! Time to party! Let's stock the cooler with some refreshing beverages, put on our sexiest Mardi Gras shirt, and wear the really BIG beads from last weekend's parade. Throw me something, Mista! Wooo Hooo!

As was typical of Scotty and me, we were fighting the weekend of the Bay/Waveland parade. Instead of going with him, I decided I'd go with my girls. I'm so finished with him. I'm going to wear even more blue eyeliner and spray my hair even bigger so I can meet a new, sexier guy. That was ALWAYS my plan knowing that I really hoped to find Scotty so we could kiss and make up.

Sure enough, he was there. He was there with some other girls. Some pretty girls. I was pissed! And drunk! (Where were my parents???) I flirted with every guy I saw. When you are drunk like that, even Jack Black can look like Brad Pitt. So there I was hanging with the girls, flirting with Brad Pitt, dancing in the streets, catching beads, kissing old men for paper flowers... Ahhh, a blissful day. I darn-near forgot that Scotty was there.

He didn't forget me, though. He was watching me like a hawk. He was pissed! How dare I "disrespect" him in front of the entire world???

Scotty was a very jealous loser boyfriend with a terrible temper. He and I used to get into scraps just for kicks. Not really, but to say I loved drama back then is an understatement.  In retrospect, what the hell was I thinking???

As is natural when you drink lots of cheap beer, I had to pee. I made the mistake of going to the wall behind the movie theater bathroom by myself. Scotty was there waiting for me. He had that familiar look on his face so I ran. But I was too drunk and he was too fast; he caught me. We got into it behind the movie theater.

There were thousands of people at the parade, but not a single soul back there! Scotty slapped me around and choked me out until I couldn't breathe. He would not let me go! He kept me pinned down. All I wanted to do was leave, but he enjoyed torturing me.  This went on for what seemed like hours.

Meanwhile, my friends were panicking because they couldn't find me.  Drunk and hysterical, they flagged down a cop to report me missing only to find themselves under interrogation. Because they were only 18 and drunk as skunks! I finally convinced Scotty that I loved him more than ice cream, and we headed back to my friends. Of course, I looked like death on a cracker. My extra blue eyeliner was all over my face. My coiffed mall hair was a big, fat rat's nest.

When I came walking up, my friends were crying.  That's what you do when you are drunk, and you can't find your friend.  From what I can recall, I merely asked the police officer what was going on. He slapped the handcuffs on me and threw me in the back of his car. Of course, by this time Scotty had faded into the crowd. What a DICK concerned boyfriend!

Off to jail I go... I'd never been arrested before so I was hysterical. OMG! A very cute and sweet officer in booking put me in an isolation cell. He knew I'd never make it in the drunk tank with the 800 other parade goers involved in illegal activities. I called home. My dad answered. He hung up on me. I would have to stay. Finally after everyone sobered up, my friends were allowed to bond me out. Scotty and I were back together by the end of the week.

Ahhh...true dysfunction love!