Tuesday, February 5, 2008

The Politics of Alcohol (otherwise known as day eighteen)

What She Wore: Blue jeans; yellow polo shirt with purple stripes; strappy, leopard-print wedges.

What She Ate: I scored today; dad made beef fajitas for lunch and my MIL served us stewed ham, green beans and potatoes over rice-- nice, cajun dish. Gotta love those holidays where everyone wants to feed you.

Well, for those of you who don't know, today is Mardi Gras. On Friday I went to my first and only real parade of the season. When I was a teenager I'd go to about a ten a season--old age slows you down.

Anyway, at the parade I experienced an interesting little incident. Was it rude? I'm not sure, so I'm letting you guys be the judge. If you're a non-drinker than I'm not sure this will make sense, but I'll do my best.

For a parade, you need a place to pee. For this reason, people usually congregate at a friend's house that is either on or near the parade route. A friend invited us over for Friday's parade and the Hub and I happily accepted. His house was about six houses off the route--a good spot. Parades are generally like block parties. Everyone is welcome, but you need need to bring your own refreshments. The Hub brought a couple of beers and I bought a very small bottle of Barcardi. I'm not a beer drinker. I also brought some Diet Coke. We all sat around the parade route talking, waiting for the parade to show up, and occasionally heading back to the house to pee. At some point, this guy who was with us asked me if his girlfriend could have some of my Bacardi. "Sure" I responded. I mean, it's not like I was going to drink a whole bottle. He went and got her and I offered her some. She thanked me and then proceeded to tell me this whole story about how she was allergic to beer, and how she had diarreah for three years because of it. I didn't ask for her medical history, but apparently she felt she needed to share it.

She took a hefty pour, walked off, and never spoke to me again for the rest of the night. This did not bother me. What did bother me a tad was when I saw her drinking a beer later. What's up with that? Was she lying about the diarreah? If so, weirdo. If not, then why the beer?

So tell me--party foul? Yay or nay?