An Adventure: The Naked Bar Slide

Today’s Music: Lionize – Surrender
Days Til Spring: 44

I’ve danced naked on bars, I’ve made naked snow angels outside them. Here is the final installment of my “naked in bars” opus.

Above my right nipple is a small scar that has long since healed. But my memories of it are vivid, and I still rub at it absentmindedly from time to time.

Not every story ends here.
But the ones that do are great.

Maybe a year or two after the first naked bar dance, my dart partner, The Terror, had gotten engaged to a wonderful woman from the bar we hung out in. He and the boys were out for his bachelor party, getting all sorts of drunk in all sorts of places. I was at the bar, drinking lightly, with a completely different group of friends from college.
And then worlds collided.

The Terror and the boys came back. Even though the bar (unlike last time) was full, space was made for them at the corner. Greetings were exchanged, backs were slapped, drinks were ordered.
“Gimme a Jameson”, shouted the Terror. “I can drink that smoother than anything!” six sets of eyes turned to me, all of us having been there the last time someone said that.
I smiled, and considered it a wedding gift.
“I can drink that smoother than you.” I said. Bigger grins all around.
The shots get set up, the shots get knocked down.
And I yell “Clear the bar!!!”

Now, I have no doubt that this time around, I drank it smoother than him. I’m not saying he dribbled all over himself, because that would be rude. But he was getting married, so give him a memorable send off.

“CLEAR THE BAR!!!”

The regulars started laughing and moved away towards the back wall. The new folk were looking on in disbelief as the story was explained to them, and they moved against the wall.
“Hey Otto!” I called to the bartender as I slipped out of my shirt and started undoing my belt (with a little wiggle. You know, for the crowd). “How about a slide this time around?”
Otto laughed and sprayed down the bar below the taps with seltzer. *Remember that the taps are the demarcation point. It’ll come up again.*
While Otto finished hosing down the bar, I got out of the rest of my clothes, making it as sexy as only a 170lb six-footer in need of a shave and a haircut can.

At this point, the people who’ve figured out what’s going on are laughing and clapping, while the rest are looking very very puzzled, and perhaps a bit aghast.

So naked me goes back by the dartboard, and, clad only in a worn pair of boat shoes, bellows “CLEAR THE BAR!!!” one last time before sprinting towards the rounded corner of the bar. I time my launch perfectly, feet leaving the ground as my fingers curl around the top of the bullnose edge of the bar and my arms drag me over it, adding to my momentum.
My stomach hits the bar in a splash of seltzer, and, with a slightly arched back to reduce drag, I zip down the bar, a carbonated rooster tail of spray marking my passage, as Otto sprays me in more seltzer (or possibly Diet Coke) as I slid by.
I’m in the zone! Only three other people have done the naked bar slide in this particular place, and I’ve already gone further than any of them! Why, I’ve almost made it as far as- Crap!
The taps!
(Remember those?)
They’re set at the middle of the bar, and jut out over halfway into the bar. I suddenly realize that maybe I had a tad too much momentum. And the bar is soaked, so no traction there.
So, like a latter day Indiana Jones avoiding a sword laden trap, I roll onto my side and watch as the taps near. I begin to slow down, my body contorted (and soaked) as speed bleeds off, decelerating to the point where, when I reach the tap, I’m going just fast enough…to scratch my chest…from below (???) to the center…of my nipple.

And the place goes wild!
I’ve seen plenty of stupid bar stunts, and been involved in plenty myself, but truly, this was an appreciative crowd.
So finally, I get off the bar and dry myself off. Several bar napkins staunch the flow of nipple blood. I make my way back to the end of the bar, past the smiling faces, the shocked faces, and the faces that have no idea what they’ve just seen, and lean against the bar near The Terror. We order another round (tequila this time for me) and toast. he leans over.
“I think you drank the Jameson smoother than me this time.”
“Nah. Congratulations, John. Have a happy marriage.”

More about The Most Wonderful Girl In The Universe (because some is just not enough…)

Today’s Music: Louis Armstrong – What a Wonderful World
Days Til Spring: 34

(This is continued from yesterday’s post)

When it came time to plan our wedding, we both had exactly the same ideas:
– It should be small, so we could enjoy the time with our guests
– It should cost less then the downpayment on a good house
– It should be…unique.

We checked out a
Farm Museum. They include a hayride!
Central Park Carousel. Beautiful, but small, and for a place with fake horses, it smelled a lot like real horses.
Top of the Rock (Rooftop observation deck of Rockefeller Center). Great view, but what would it cost?

It turns out that renting Top of the Rock is $25k. Before food,band, or anything really. Just for the space.
And not even the good space. It’s for an enclosed terrace with a very limited view.
The manager must have seen our crestfallen expression and taken pity on us.
“Of course, if you wanted to”, she went on, “you could just by tickets for the observatory for you party and just show up. the only condition would be” – we held our breath – “you couldn’t block off the space from other visitors,
and you couldn’t bring a professional photographer”.
We looked at each other. No professional and random strangers wandering through our wedding?
PERFECT!!!

The view from the wedding altar

Once we started, the staff couldn’t have been nicer. They did gave us some space on one end of the platform and thanked us at the end for picking their place to have our wedding.
The minister, on the other hand, had no idea what to do with us.
She was a non-denominational minister. Since my girl and I are of different faiths (and neither devout), we chose someone who could bring spirituality to the ceremony without dogma.
Poor woman.
She was hesitant to say “Mawwiage”, but all our friends caught the reference.
At one point during the ceremony, when my girl leaned over to kiss me, she told us (jokingly) to knock it off.
My girl’s response: “Have you met us?”
But she took it in stride when I stuck my tongue out at my girl (when she was telling the story of how my girl turned me down for the Harry Connick Jr date). Because she totally deserved it.
We got married on a Thursday. I took the day off and went in Friday.
Several of my wife’s co-workers took a long lunch and crashed the wedding. Her boss forced her to take Friday off too.

And I'm never letting go.

That was four years ago, eleven since we first started dating. Here are some snippets from our life together…
– Every night ends with the following (both of us say each line)
“Good night (pretty/handsome) (nickname)”
“Happy Valen-(nickname) -day”
“I love you”
I don’t think we’ve skipped more than a small handful of nights.
– I will poke her constantly. She retaliates by scratching my palms. Because that freaks me out.
– I will, when opportunity present itself, lick her nose. She will get back at me by slobbering my entire face.
– She keeps a spray bottle filled with water to squirt me with if I tickle her.
– I can count the number of yelling arguments we’ve had over the years on both hands. Without taking my mittens off.
– If she tells me seriously that I’m being a jackass, I will (after I shake off the frustration) think about and change what I’m doing.
– She has her own custom made action figure, commissioned by a friend.
– When my bungee jumping plans fell through, she found a place in Portland that was reliable.
– She knows how to tie a cherry stem in a knot with her tongue. I carried it in my wallet for years.
– She is the only person who has ever been able to get me to take care of my diabetes.
– I have gone to flower shows because she wanted to see them. (To be honest, she was right – they’re pretty cool).
– She is incredibly well read in history, fantasy and science fiction.
– I will never forgive her for referring to Hemmingway’s The Old Man And The Sea as “A Boy And His Fish”.
– She can quote Douglas Adams with the best of them.
– I love her so much that I have taken her to see both Depeche Mode and Pink live. And before you say “So?”, the Ting Tings opened for Pink. I would rather have gotten ringworm.
– Her only bridezilla moment was insisting we get married on our anniversary.
– My family likes her better than me.
– When separated in a large store, I will yell out “WIFE!” and listen for the answering “Husband!” (Because she has decorum and doesn’t bellow in public like I do.)
– She is queen of saying “Yes dear”.
– And sticking her tongue out at me. (He deserves it – TMWGITU)
– Sometimes, when she reads over my shoulder as I write these posts, she twists my ponytail into a knot. (Like now!)
– She bakes incredible scones. And turned me on to clotted cream.
– Starting a life with her is the smartest thing I ever did.
– Her choosing me is the best thing that ever happened to me
– If you were wondering, yes. The first year we were together, she took me to see Harry Connick Jr. Because she is that cool.

That’s about all I’m going to say. Because it’s been about 45 minutes of me playing on my machine, and I really want to go tell her I love her.
Bet I’ll get a kiss!

Happy Valentine’s Day, all. Have a great day no matter what you do, and every day after too.

The Most Wonderful Girl In The Universe

Today’s Music: They Might Be Giants – Birdhouse In Your Soul
Days Til Spring: 35

A long time ago, I worked at the college bookstore.
There was a girl who worked there. I didn’t know it at the time, but she was the most wonderful girl in the universe.
We were friendly. We teased each other, flirted a bit, but nothing really came of it.
Along the way I developed a crush on her.
One day, I asked her out.
“Harry Connick Jr is playing”, I said. “Would you like to go?”
“No thanks” she answered. “I’m not really a fan”.
“Ok”

She filled in this part later on:
“One of my friends asked why I wasn’t going out with you. I told her that I didn’t really like Harry Connick.
‘You idiot’ she said. ‘He was asking you out on a date’. I didn’t realize it. Oops.”

In the course of our daily teasing, she handed me a piece of paper, with the following poem
The Lollipop
When you come to the end of a lollipop
To the end to the end of a lollipop,
Plop goes your heart.

For when you are through with it,
what can you do with it?
All you have left is a stick.

How can you doubt she was the girl for me?

Fast forward about 10 years or so. I had left restaurants, learned IT and just started a new job.
That very day, I had also moved in with a friend of mine.
So I’m sitting in this bar, at a reasonable hour, having a pint.
I distinctly remember thinking to myself “Ok, what next?”
And the door opened.
These two girls walked in. One of them was pretty cute, so I smiled.
And…she…waved…
I’ve done a lot of stupid things in a lot of different places over the years, and have often run into people who knew (or heard of me) and I had no idea who they were.
I was nervous that would be the case here.

But when she sat down and I looked more closely, I recognized and remembered her. And it was great.
We spent the rest of the night talking (her friend was across the bar talking to some people she knew). When it was time for her to go, I offered to give her a lift (It was ok, I’d just had the one pint).(And she has since cured me of drinking and driving)
I drove her home, and we spent the next couple of hours sitting in front of her home just talking.
Eventually I said I had to go (because I really had to pee), but before she left, I asked her out again.
“I’ll tell you the first naked bar dance story” I said.
“The first?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.
“You pick the place”, I answered, realizing this might not have been the best lead-off. “Someplace you’re comfortable with lots of people around” I raised an eyebrow back at here. “You know, in case I’m insane”
“Oh, I know you’re insane” she said.
“No, I mean in a bad way”
We went out a few days later. Had a lovely meal. I told her some of my more…colorful stories. She told me hers.
We went for a walk in the neighborhood on a cool clear night.
We were talking about astronomy, stars, planets, constellations. I pointed out a constellation to her.
Where, she asked. I moved closer so she could sight along my arm. As I leaned down to describe the shapes, she looked up. And kissed me.

At the intersection of astronomy and astrology, Orion brings smooches!

It was a good date.

Some scenes along the way from there:
-“It’s my birthday. You can meet all my friends”. Oh joy. And it turns out her friends are just as cool as her. And are my friends now too.
-“Honey, if you want to build a model railroad, then you should.” it’s ten years later, and I’m still working on it, but she has never been anything but supportive.
-Me: “I’d like to take you out on your birthday”
Her”: “I’ll be in Atlanta”
Me: “That’s fine.Let me know where to meet you.”
Best. Daytrip. Ever.
-On a week in January a few years ago when I was having a wicked case of Cabin Fever: “Why don’t we go to Key West for a few days?”

So we were together for several years. One day, it bothered her that we weren’t married, because of the legal implications.
To me, she was my wife, and I her husband in every way but the paperwork. But she wanted to be married. So we went out to find a ring.
We went to a mall and she found the ring she liked. I handed the saleswoman the money and stepped to an empty counter while she boxed it up.
I pulled my girl over.
“Honey, we had lunch before, but not desert.”
I reached into my pocket and pulled out two napkins, laying them on the counter.
I took out a small bag of Oreos, two each, and portioned them on the napkins.
I went back into the pocket for a candle holder and candle.
I lit the candle.
My girl was both laughing and blushing deeply as we ate our cookies, looking deeply into each others eyes.
The saleswoman came over with the ring in a box as we finished the cookies.
I took the box.
“Honey”, I asked. “Will you marry me?”
Some onlookers started applauding and congratulating us. I ignored them.
Because she hadn’t said yes yet.
But then she did.

(This post is turning out way longer than I expected. Part two will go up on Valentines day. Or , at least I’ll try…)