We had a Ball! Pt.2 [ or 2.5, ShortBUS! ; ) ]
Saturday, January 22nd, was the night of the Excalibur Ball. It was a lot of fun, and I’m thankful to have been invited to participate.
All the guys looked cool, and I kept referring the the gals as, “Ye Olde Hotness.” Missy was looking especially fine in her olde school dress and jewelry, and I’m told her undies (which she is reported to have flashed, accidentally) were nice, also. Hey, Missy, at least you had some on, right?
At the beginning of the event, we each were assigned tasks to perform, such as handing out blinky beads, helping folks find their assigned tables, or just general greeting. Unfortunately for the table escorts, the system seemed to break down, so I resigned myself to greeting at the “moat” entrance. I had fun smiling, wishing “Good eve!”, warning attendees to watch their step on the “moat bridge”, and (clandestinely) blessing the cleavage that passed me (Amen!). Oh, by the way, to make that last statement make more sense I will mention that I went as a friar/monk. I even had the Franciscan ring/crown of hair left unshaved, with everything above and below it trimmed off! Maybe we’ll see pictures of that.
Sancho was cool as a juggler, mingling amongst the guests. I got bored and joined him, wandering around, wishing I could think of something fun and in-character to do, but I was too worried about offending with off-color religious banter. Oh well.
Then, everyone was seated and the event began. Yay! Then the bars, which we all had no opportunity to visit, closed until the end of the procession of every last krewe member (and even their friends!) had ended! BOOO!
After all that, the bars opened, and we all got several drinks. Except me. My numb-nuts of a bartender, when asked for three drinks, poured three drinks HALF EMPTY. I had to go the the bar next to him, wait in line again, and then ask the NICE bartender if she would make the rest of my drink for me. She helpfully obliged, and with her help I spent the rest of the evening CRUNKED! I don’t often get drunk, but I like to think I’m a friendly, jovial, (if lusty, but not grabby) drunk. I also discovered the joy of the company of Drunk Savannah – she’s a hoot when she’s drunk and we had a good old time laughing and drinking, and toasting Eddie, MissyG, and everything else we could think of. Here’s to that! *CLINK*
Food: Artichoke soup was good, even when spilled on Missy’s dress. Then salad, then Petit Filet steak and shrimp! Even Heather had a yummy dinner of shrimp that some of us donated to the cause. Wrap up the meal with cheesecake and I was spent! Of course, I was drunk and happy, so it was “like, the best ever!” Awesome!
And then the dancing: what’s white, has sixty-two legs, drinks heavily, and flails it’s arms and legs around? That’s right, it’s the entire collection of people on the dance floor, including me! Oh, I do love drunken white people in formal wear! I used to dance much more when I was much younger, but time and a growing girth have reduced me to vogue-ing like Madonna, since all the moving of the feet and such wears one out. Not that I have two left feet – I just prefer to stay upright, so I don’t jump around as much, anymore. Ah, youth.
Fun was had by all, and I was glad to have been there, despite the early-on drought. Excalibur? Excelsior!