I Was On a Boat: (Motherfucker)

The Scene:  Shuswap Lake, BC
The Time:  Late August
The Event:  A Stagette
The Mission:  Get buck wild

So there we were.  9 girls.  Out to have the long weekend of a lifetime.  And we were on a boat.  A houseboat motherfucker.  And ready to party.  It was the summer of 2006.  I was just shy of my 25th birthday.  And Mega Love and I were on a break.

The first afternoon was basically a race to find a suitable party locale to ram the beach and tie up the boat. (hehehe Just Sayin'). Before it got dark.  Once that was accomplished it was time for me to catch up to the rest of the ladies who by this point were well on their way to plastered.  So I did the only suitable thing.  I made myself some purple sizzurp.  In a to-go cup obviously.  This baby can't be tied down to one party spot. The only way I knew how aka the best way possible.  I cracked open one of my diet Grape Crush.  Poured out enough soda to leave room for the appropriate portion of gin.  Filler' up and giver a little swirl.  And it was showtime.  Delicious.

Before I knew it, I was in the midst of a party.  A massive party.  One that sprung from houseboats as far as the eyes could see.  Okay I'm lying.  Sprung from much further.  It was fucking pitch black outside.  You could barely see more than 20 feet down the beach.  So yeah.  The party.  It spilled in and out of boats.  And because we weren't too keen on dirty boys and strangers muckin' about our home for the next 4 days, we had already established a plan.  We would party on their boats.  Simple enough.  And since basically every houseboat held a group of anywhere between 5-15 guys, ready to party like there's no tomorrow.  Finding a suitable one was not difficult.  In fact we found it almost right away.  Earlier, when we had just arrived and were still sailing towards our beach destination, some fellas had jumped their ship and swam over to ours.  They were on a stag.  But then again.  Who wasn't?  And they were suitable enough.  For now.

So there we were.  Drinking.  And dancing.  I specifically remember the dancing.  Mostly because at one point I totally bailed.  But was able to get up and smooth my ruffled feathers with a lot of "nobody saw, nobody saw"s and laughter.  Plus I was in jeans and runners so it's not like I did the Snooki or something.  I also remember the dancing because it was at this point.  That I acquired the attention of a fellow.  Was he blow your mind amazing?  Hardly.  A personality to win millions?  Unlikely.  Would I even remember what he looked like if I didn't have photos?  Not a fucking chance.  But he was cute.  A good dancer.  And obviously into me.  A triad if you will.

It wasn't long before I was wearing his ball cap.  No shit.  I have the photos to prove it.  *sigh* ah to be young again.  And then we were taking a saunter up the spiral stairs.  That's right.  Headin' up to the top deck.  It was like The Love Boat.  Only.  er...not so much.  The upside.  He was aggressive and pressed me up against a wall.  The downside.  It had a fucking hand rail that jammed into my tailbone.  But tipsy off the purple sizzurp as I was and you can let a lot of shit slide.  I'm sure there was some idle chatter.  Okay well actually I'm not sure.  But I'm concerned you guys will judge me so I'm playing that part up a bit :P.  And then he kissed me.  And it was....

Amazing?  Delicious?  Passionate?  Yummy?  Lady Bit exciting?  Soft and warm?  Sexy and full throttle?

None of these.  It was.  Sloppy.  Weak.  Lame.  For awhile I was hopeful.  That he'd catch on.  Improve.  What have you.  But he did not.  And so that's when I pulled the old "I should get to know you better" move.  After gently pushing him away I asked, So what do you do for work.  His response...drug dealer.  Just like that.  drug dealer.  No big deal.  drug dealer.  Now for those of you who don't know me.  I'll say this.  I was a party girl.  A dabbler in the pharmaceuticals if you will.  Nothing serious by any means.  But enough that judging a drug dealer would be awfully hypocritical.  But who am I to worry about hypocrisy with a bad kisser on my hands.  I was going to take this opportunity and run with it.  I immediately feigned shock, horror, judgement, contempt.  Anything I could think of that would get me out of this gracefully.  And by gracefully I simply mean, it was still early and I didn't want this dude to fuck up any game I had the rest of the night.

Now don't get me wrong.  I'm sure to him I was just some tits and ass and he'd get over it.  So I shuffled my ass down that spiral staircase like it was no big thing and it was back to my friends and the sizzurp.  Because afterall.  I wasn't done meeting boys.  And I definitely wasn't done having fun.  Not by a long shot.

To Be Continued...