First off, ten points to the first reader to comment or email in the artist that I quoted for the title of this piece.
Who knows, maybe I start lacing each blog with a trivia question and posting an official scoreboard with reader point totals. I mean, probably not, but maybe. Really, you never know (but sometimes you do).
Now, let’s get to business…
The most glorious thing happened to me this past Thursday night and I absolutely have to share. As I stepped off the elevator en route to my flat at 3:48 a.m. (so, I guess it was Friday), I inadvertently surprised two drunk girls that were standing a few feet away from the elevator looking out over the property’s courtyard (and apparently not expecting anyone to be getting off the elevator at that hour). The two girls screamed in that “you realize it is really late and you should try to be quiet, but you can’t help it because you’re straight up Hazeyville-and some skinny kid with a backpack and pink watch just got off of the elevator and nearly scared the shat out of you” sort of way.
I have no answer for why I put my hands in the air like I was under arrest at that point, but I did. Maybe subconsciously it was my way of motioning: “I’m tipsy too/I just want to go to my apartment/I ain’t gonna hurt you because 1) I am a harmless skinny kid and 2) If I were a predator it wouldn’t even matter because I am so tired tonight that I’m just not feeling it.
I was perfectly content to pass it off as exactly what it was---two drunken girls wandering around my building at 3:48 a.m. on a Thursday (again)---and just walk on by like Dionne Warwick…but then they spoke to me. Even in an encounter as bizarre as this becomes in the next few paragraphs, I was still surprised that their first words to me were “Hey, have you seen two black guys?” Instantly wishing I was African-American, I smiled on the outside but dejectedly shook my head “No.”
As I braced to pass them and head toward my door, I happened to notice that they were both wearing Eye Black on their cheeks (like football and/or baseball players). Immediately intrigued, I decided to engage. As I drew closer and the girls gathered their respective frightened breaths and commenced giggling, I noticed that one was wearing a cape (like a vampire and/or baseball player). After pissing my pants, I pulled it together enough to ask exactly what was going on and how I could become involved. The ladies explained that they were “kinda messed up” and “playing Drunk Hide ‘N’ Seek” with their boyfriends. Instantaneously, two things entered my head: 1) they were losing and 2) by a lot.
One of the girls explained that she lived in the building with her boyfriend. At that moment, I realized that the guys were probably back at the apartment watching SportsCenter and wondering why the girls had been gone for six hours (and laughing when they realized that the one girl was still wearing a cape).
Apparently, these two young ladies were having a really rough time with the “seeking” portion of the game. It became obvious that, not only were these two never going to find their boyfriends, but these girls would be extremely lucky to “seek” their apartment at any point in the next five hours. Then, what to my wandering eyes should appear, but two black dudes doing lat pull-downs in one of our 24-hour fitness center mirrors. I explained to the girls that it looked like there was activity in the gym-area across the way and that maybe they should go check it out.
Now, in my younger days, I thought Sociology was something that colleges made up for dumb people (athletes) to major in, but I have spent the middle part of my Twenties infatuated with this branch of Science. I am always trying to pry deep into the nuts and bolts of what goes through people’s brains and makes them do the things they do. With this in mind, I wanted to question these girls about how this whole “Drunk Hide ‘N’ Seek” thing materialized (you know, because I am twenty-seven and I don’t play Hide ‘N’ Seek or Four-Square as much as I used to). So, I posed exactly that question. After a brief moment of silence, the caped one summed it up for me with one word, “vodka.” Realizing that, at this juncture, this was probably the extent of their collective recall, I decided to send them on their way. We exchanged goodbyes and I reminded them to head toward the gym-and that, if they wanted to, they could use the elevators to get there because they were still, you know, functioning.
After the girls hit the elevator, I wrestled my phone out of my pocket with hopes of calling someone to come over and play “One-On-One, I Had A Couple Of Drinks Two Hours Ago, But I Was Good To Drive Home, And If You Want To Crank It Back Up I Have Belvedere In My Freezer” Hide ‘N’ Seek with me, but no dice. I’ll be honest, I was sad. I was jealous as hell of those four and their DH’N’S game.
I don’t know about you all, but I don’t have nearly as much fun as I used to (and I have to be honest, I am one of the most fun people around).
I guess the point I am trying to make is that we are never too old to crank up a game of “Hide ‘N’ Seek” (drunk or otherwise). It made me smile to see those twenty-somethings keeping the dream alive. Age really ain’t nuthin’ but a number (no points will be awarded for naming the artist that sang this song due to the “obvious” factor). Sometimes, you just need to pop bottles, slap on some Eye Black, strap on a cape, and wrestle up a game of “Hide ‘N’ Seek.”
As soon as my key penetrated my lock, I thought “blog.” As I started cranking out a skeleton of this entry on a Chipotle receipt, I was trying to recall games from my younger days that I have incorporated into my adult(ish) years. It took about two seconds for my brain to flash back 386 days to a Cinco De Mayo party I went to last year at a friend’s house.
After an amazing Mexican meal and a mixture of spirits and seis-packs, the couple that was hosting the party surprised everyone with a piñata.
Let me say that again: a piñata.
It was hanging in the garage and it was full-o-candy. Once we decided that someone would probably die if we used the metal bat that the hosts had originally planned on, we changed to a wiffle and tequila-fueled madness ensued.
SIDEBAR: “Dizzy Bat” is my most-favorite-est game in the entire world. And, when you have a piñata, you kind of “Dizzy Bat” yourself, walk around, and then STILL get to swing a bat at a paper matche bull full of candy. It’s amazing.
It took about 30 minutes, but we eventually wiffled that paper mache bull into vapor, sending candy throughout the garage. I could not believe how much fun I was having. I kept trying to compare it to something, but nothing came close. The only memories I could muster where I was honestly equally excited and entertained were of raging at Chuck E. Cheese as a kid (you know, before you grow up and realize that entire place is coated in a quarter-inch of feces).
After the laughter from the piñata died down, I felt like everyone still had a lot left in their respective tanks, so I decided to take it up a notch. I marched inside the house and headed straight for the refrigerator door. You freaking guessed it…DRUNK EGG TOSS! Keep in mind that it was about 2:00 a.m. and pitch black outside except for the driveway fog light that barely illuminated a six-foot circle on the driveway. When the playing conditions are as such and tequila is involved, chances are high that people are going to end up wearing most of the eggs, but we didn’t care-we pressed on.
Four teams of two stretched out across the barely-illuminated driveway tossing eggs back and forth and smashing them all over one another. It may have been the greatest night of my adult(ish) life.
When did we stop playing games?
If I told you that you could have the most fun you have had in ten years tonight with seven friends, a patch of grass and a dozen eggs, what would you say (I know, you don’t have seven friends, but other than that)?
We need to keep these games alive. It’s so easy, it’s so much fun, and it’s so cheap (recession). Given this, it’s really stupid NOT to have an Egg Toss, piñata or Hide ‘N’ Seek game every weekend.
I need some new games. I hope that some of you will post or email in new ideas. I want to really take things up a notch this summer at the beach parties and barbeques that I attend.
I have been thinking of organizing a “Dizzy Bat” extravaganza for several years now, but it is just too dangerous. It is dangerous enough when sober and surrounded by acres of open space-so when people inevitably begin drinking and/or the game is held on a less than ample playing field, you have a recipe for surgeries.
Wait, Dizzy Bat is PERFECT for the beach. I keep forgetting that I live 30 minutes from the Pacific Ocean these days. In Indiana, a Dizzy Bat extravaganza was not really feasible, but with a beach in play I can really see this coming to fruition (sorry non-beach havers). Cali friends: be expecting an Evite.
Lastly, big shout out to my friends (who shall remain anonymous) for throwing the greatest Cinco De Mayo party EVER last year. You two are so dope. And also, why did you just randomly have two-dozen eggs chilling in the ‘fridge? Protein? I hope you two don’t take those things down “Rocky-style.” Yucky.
ALSO, huge shout to my friend J, who’s birthday is May 5th. Every year I remember in the days leading up to 5/5 and I tell everyone around me that my friend J’s birthday is Cinco De Mayo and we all talk about how interesting it is…..and I ALWAYS forget to call the poor kid on his birthday. I swear I ALWAYS remember J, I just ALWAYS forget to call. Happy Birthday, fam.
Anyway people, I’m out.
Let’s bring the games back.
You’re welcome,
-Todd
