When we last left the Hinterlands, I was detailing the highlights of my recent trip to rural Missouri (pronounced MizzzerrrRAH up yonder). But somehow I failed to mention some of the evening’s festivities that precluded the barnyard reception.
Mercifully, I did not travel alone. Instead I opted to go with my dear friend (and VP of Operations at my ad agency) Nickie Gibbs and her husband Brad. He’s another muckety muck in the company – but I choose not to point that out because it’ll go RIGHT to his head.
Now – I know the three of us swore a blood oath that what went on in Milan, Missouri STAYED in Milan, Missouri. Well, so much for that. We got lost 46 times. After that, I started drinking my weight in margaritas in the city’s only so-called Mexican restaurant … and all bets were off.
The blushing bride Laura wanted to have a karaoke-themed after hours party at a local watering hole called “My Bar.” This is your typical small town saloon where everyone knows everyone and they proudly serve ZIMA. I, however, do not drink ZIMA. Thus, I tended to stand out like a sore thumb in the bar. Well, that and I chose to wear an argyle sweater vest w/ matching argyle socks.
Laura was begging and groveling and pleading for us to sing karaoke with her. Most declined. But eventually I relented and opted to sing my signature song, “It’s Raining Men (Hallelujah)!” I decided to up the ante and make it a duet with Laura. She was game. It was on!
First of all, I don’t think anyone in the bar had ever heard of the song … maybe because they don’t appreciate The Weather Girls like I do. Or maybe because the song hadn’t been covered by Kellie Pickler yet. Either way – it got a frosty reception … uh, post-reception.
Brad immediately offered to drive me back to the hotel after that because he was fearful I’d be lynched. I politely took him up on his offer. Halfway back to the hotel, I casually mentioned that when Brad and I left together people probably thought we were a couple.
Needless to say, Brad spent the rest of the evening making out with his lovely wife in a veiled attempt to portray his overt breeder-like qualities. Don’t worry Brad … I know you secretly covet my argyle sweater vest. I saw it in your eyes. Nickie and I will go shopping for you for Xmas.