Monday, October 09, 2006
The weather was perfect, the crowds congenial and an abundance of beer flowed effortlessly from the primed spigots as Bud Light, Amber Bock, Rolling Rock, and a flavorful concoction named Pumpkin were offered as brewery choices. Not one to offend a beverages feelings, I sampled three of the four. The pumpkin selection wasn’t half bad and my compadres were in a jovial mood as we reclined on the shady hillside surveying the crowd. (Slippery flipflops—please remember these words as they will play a paramount role later in the story)...
Always spotting familiar acquaintances, I chatted with our lovely cellular rep (Motorola Mishaps) in all her 60s glory. A dear friend's sexy son bumped into me (literally and on purpose) and we exchanged friendly greetings. He later joined me on the knoll and sans current squeeze, privately engaged in a brief tete-a-tete before rejoining his companions. Hmmm, younger men....*sigh*
Toward the end of our pleasant outing, consumption of hops and barley surely played a major part in my lax sartorial judgment in purchasing a white feathered boa to complete my casual jeans and top ensemble. After earlier wolfing down a foot-long Polish sausage with kraut washed down with copious quantities of beer, at the last minute I rashly decided to purchase a sugar-covered, grease-laden funnel cake. Sis and I headed back up the incline to round up the gang and take our leave. Choosing the sexy, black sequined flipflops for footwear came back to haunt me as heading down the treacherous slope, I lost my balance, feathers flying, an explosion of fluffy, powdered sugar shot skyward, and the delectable confection sailed through the air as I unceremoniously tumbled ass over teakettle much to the merriment of the beer ticket ladies. Landing flat on my face, I quickly sprang to my feet as “K” promptly recovered the dessert (2 second rule applied) completely intact. Though physically unhurt, I could not say the same for my injured dignity (or as much dignity as one can muster clad in a flirtatious, girlish, fuzzy boa) which suffered serious damage as I dusted myself off and headed for the gate. We all laughed about it the entire way home as I relived my embarrassing, clown-like antics. I only wish I had thought to curtsy and wave to the stunned crowd. I promise you this will be one Oktoberfest I’ll never forget. :)