The McCarty Metro
|Disclaimer for Wives, Girlfriends, Mothers, or anyone else who is NOT morally corrupt: This story is fictional; any similarities to real people or events are merely coincidental.|
De Ja vu, In more ways than one!
The year was 1986. A group of scrawny high school-ers saved their lunch money to purchase main floor tickets for the most celebrated rock concert of the season….Van Halen!!! Plans to secure illegal alcoholic beverages had been in the works for months. Only the finest “Popov” vodka and “Old Milwaukee” would do for this well anticipated event. Expenses were not to be spared!!! The cast of misfits poured out of the rusty 1970 Cutlass 7 hours before the evening’s festivities began to assure their rightful place in the front row, and in the history books. Approximately 12 hours after their arrival, the weary band of brothers emerged from the mosh pit exhausted and smelling like a combination of Polo cologne and sweat mixed with failed Right Guard deodorant!
18 Years later
The Limo promptly arrived at 6:00 to the posh residents of one Jim Seeling. The astute driver opened the door to reveal a distinguished well dressed gentlemen sipping on Grey Goose vodka and enjoying an expensive cigar. “Gentlemen” he said, “our chariot has arrived”. Each member took their seat in the limo and enjoyed the ride to the venue while partaking in an abundance of shrimp cocktail and Canada’s finest malt beverage. Oh, how times had changed……or so we thought!!!
Who would have guessed that the limo was actually a time machine, taking our slightly overweight, balding high school-ers back to 1986!!! Oh sure, the evening started out as you might expect…until Hight threw the cerebral switch by pushing the back of Scholl’s knee forcing the new father to catch himself or end up on the floor!! This otherwise innocuous act triggered a domino effect creating some weird time-space continuum that ultimately sent us back to 1986, except we were still balding and fat!!! From that point on, the evening went into a tailspin. The next thing I knew my pants were around my ankles and my ass was pressed up against the suite glass for Walt and Hight to bask in the evenings “moon” light. (Not to worry Kristen, I took precautions to ensure my uneven clock weights were not exposed)!!! Jim began to act like a true politician and solicit willing volunteers to challenge Alan, another friend of Steve’s, to do a shot with him. Jim wanted to put an already obliterated Alan over the edge. When Jim couldn’t find any takers, he bellied up and did the job himself. I’m still not sure who was pushed over the edge!!
Off to the Gentleman’s club were everything was progressing nicely until a scantily clad woman by the name of Diamond enticed a rather inebriated Seeling to escort her to the “VIP” room. Jim promptly and without hesitation puked on himself and then somehow lost $400 bucks (He said $200, we immediately doubled it to arrive at the true amount lost). By the way, Jim was gone for ONE dance!!! Now, I have come to realize that there are a number of ways to determine if the puke like substance on somebody’s shirt is really puke. One way is to ASK the man with the puke like substance, if it is indeed puke. Larry Wendt decided to take another avenue. In a bold, and decidedly unrefined move, Larry proceeded to bend down and stick his nose into Jim’s shirt. Upon returning from what I can only imagine is a hellish place, Larry announced that the puke like substance, was indeed puke. Personally, I would suggest another route myself. But that’s just me!! It was at this moment when all agreed that we needed to leave and begin the long journey home.
As Seeling led the way to the limo and into the history books, he decided to stop at the door of the club and return the Shrimp, Chicken Fingers, Potato Skins, and all of the other fine food that the good folks at Follmer were so kind to provide to us. This move created a problem in the form of a moat that separated the rest of the group from our intended destination. Now, as I stated earlier, even though our minds went back to 1986, our bodies did not. However, the thought of falling short and plummeting into Jim’s dinner motivated these otherwise out of shape elder statesmen to look like Carl Lewis in the 1984 Olympic long jump, if for only a brief moment. Once outside, we all piled into the limo, with Seeling sitting next to the window and yours truly right beside him. About 5 minutes into trip Jim rolled down the window in an attempt to finish his exorcism. He then proceeded to chuck the rest of his dinner all over the limo door and himself. From downtown Detroit to our first drop off point, I became part of the door as every fiber of my body tried to move as far away from the pungent odor of Seeling’s bile as humanly possible. All of this to the amusement of the other members of the group who were relaxing while watching from a safe distance. We dropped off our guests and hit Tom’s Oyster bar for a nightcap. After a quick drink and toast to another successful evening of fun, we headed off toward the limo. About halfway between the bar and the limo the four remaining members of the group had an epiphany!!! The last one to the limo would be forced to sit closest to Seeling, who was passed out waiting for us. Upon this realization, an all out sprint ensued. The limo driver, a middle-aged, bleach blonde, leathered and tattered looking woman, noticed the heard of rhino like people stampeding toward her. Since this woman appeared to have “been around the block” a few times, she had seen this on more than a few occasions and handled herself very well. She was relieved to find out that we weren’t being chased out of the bar. We arrived back at the aforementioned posh Seeling estate around 3:00 am, were we promptly shaved Jim’s eyebrows off and sent him to his neighbor’s front door to fumble with his keys while streaming obscenities as to why they wouldn’t open the door!! Just kidding.
The author would like to thank all of the participants and Steve for the invite.
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