I’m sore. Like…. just went horseback riding sore. I think it has something to do with the “sit down…. now, please stand, you may be seated, please rise, take your seats, stand up….” portion of last night’s ball.
I was extremely overwhelmed last night.
So, we get to the ball and get out of the car and there are people outside that Dean knows. Introductions take place. This one guy takes one look at me and is dumbfounded by my huge belly. This became an occurring theme of the evening. It was sort of embarrassing.
So, we have to stand in this huge, long line before we enter the ballroom and it’s on of those lines where at the end of it, you have to shake hands and curtsy to the kings and queens of the military. As we stand in this line, some incredibly skinny woman that is standing in line right behind us is bitching about how she looks. I kid you not, she kept saying, “Oh, my god… I look fucking pregnant in this dress.”
“Yeah, me too.” I’m thinking.
Also in this line is a very good looking woman in a pretty gown but before noticing her pretty gown, I notice her boobs because they are large and perky and…. very, very in your face. Her dress is quite revealing. The minute we walk in, Boobs squeals at me, “Oh, Kyra! I’ve heard so much about you!!!!” I look at Dean and he says, “This is ________, the girl I’m singing with tonight.”
Oh, no…. THIS is her. Boobs is the chick.
More about Boobs…. plenty more.
But back to the line. By the time we get to the end of this massive fucker, I’m seriously considering running for the hills because everything is hurting. I want to sit down. But there are hands to shake and people to impress. Dean begins nudging me furiously saying, “That’s the Lt. Colonel….” Lt. Colonel holds out his hand and thanks me for coming and asks me how I’m feeling. I say, “I’m sorry… who are you?” Dean looks nervous and the Lt. Colonel introduces himself and his wife and then we move on down and shake the hands of everyone else who is worthy of the handshaking.
Finally, we enter the ballroom and locate our table. We find our name cards and sit down in our assigned seats and then…. Boobs arrives and plops down next to Dean.
In a sick twist of fate, Boobs has been assigned the seat next to Dean. It is going to be a long night.
To make things worse, Boobs is… very outgoing. And very touchy feely. Dean has told me that he doesn’t really know her and that he has only rehearsed with her one time. Boobs makes me think otherwise. She is constantly, throughout the evening, praising Dean and slapping him playfully on the leg and asking if he knows any single guys she can hook up with.
Dean has told me that Boobs is engaged to a soldier out in Iraq.
Boobs tells me she is single. Arggghhhhh!!!!
So, I sit there seething all night because Boobs is sort of acting like she is Dean’s best friend. In fact, out of nowhere, she leans in to Dean and drops this bomb:
Dean has said, “I put the special in Specialist.”
She then leans in to him and says, “Well, I put the private in privates.”
Boobs ends up getting up from the table and wandering off… probably to go smoke or something. She is gone about ten minutes when Dean tells me he is going to go to the bathroom. Twenty minutes pass and no sign of them. I am now sitting by myself at the table and I see Boobs walk back in. I think to myself, “If Dean walks in right behind her, I’m going to shit my pants.” Then, Dean walks in right behind her.
Irrational, jealous Kyra instantly decides that they were out fucking in my car.
Sitting to my left is Dean and Boobs and to my right is some woman who is OBSESSED with my pregnancy. She wants to discuss every single aspect of it throughout the evening. It’s very weird and a little uncomfortable. Every time I got up to go anywhere, I would come back and hear her say, “Oh, good. I was worried that you’d gone and given birth somewhere.” Sheesh, lady.
We get food. We eat food. Then, it is time for some more sitting down and standing up and sitting down and standing up and then it is time for Dean and Boobs to go do their song.
She’s alright… nothing too impressive…. can carry a tune but hasn’t any real power behind her voice….
and then she forgets the words.
I see Dean mouthing her lyrics to her and she picks it back up and goes on with the song. After her song, Dean sings Simple Man, a request from the LT. Colonel. Everyone freaks the fuck out at the end of it because Dean has knocked the shit right out of the ballpark. Boobs is sort of upset that she forgot her words, but not too badly. I tell her she did a great job and she commented on how she fucked it up and I told her that you couldn’t tell because Dean’s guitar sort of overpowered her when she did it and it really just sounded like a screw up with the sound system.
We do some more politickin and shaking hands and then we leave about an hour earlier than we had planned for because we were both tired.
I don’t know where Boobs went because she sort of disappeared after her song. We get home and the minute we walk in the door I ask Dean to free me from the confines of the dress. I need my jammie pants. Then, I blog about a certain hottie and pass the fuck out.
But, regardless of Boobs and not being allowed to misbehave and all the sitting and standing and sitting and standing again, I had fun.
I only really misbehaved a little.
Everyone was asked to stand to make a toast to the President and we all stood. Hundreds of people put their champagne glasses in the air and toasted ol’ Bushie and then, there is Dean and I, glasses lowered. We will not be toasting the President this evening.
We toasted the military and the fallen soldiers and everyone else on the planet, but not the President. No one said anything to us, either.
As we are standing in line for the buffet, Boobs is in front of me and she tells me, “You’re not supposed to get salad, yet.” At this point, I want to scratch her eyes out and so I loudly reply, “I don’t give a fuck.” She gets the point and turns her ass back around.
And then, I got into it with some old ass soldier.
There is a guy at our table and he isn’t wearing a uniform, but instead has dressed to the nines in his own formal wear. He looks great. I ask Dean about him and Dean tells me who he is and says that everyone at work treats him like shit and gives him a hard time but that he still comes to work every day and busts his ass and just takes it from everyone. I’m horrified. I really hate that kind of shit.
At some point, some NCO comes up to the table and starts in on the guy telling him that he should have worn a uniform (which he wasn’t obligated to do… there were lots of soldiers out of uniform) and that his tie looked stupid with his shirt and that he sucked and all this shit. The NCO was really mean and being really loud and it just wasn’t some friendly grilling… he was actually trying to embarrass the guy. After a few minutes of this, I finally decide to say something so in front of everyone, I inform his highness that no one wanted the opinion of some old man in an ugly uniform. I was pissed. I believe these were my words:
“You know, why don’t you ask some of the ladies how he looks in his suit? I think he looks hot and, no offense to you, but he looks far better than you do in your silly uniform. Really, you have no reason to be bitching at him about style.”
Dude’s wife shoots me a look of gratitude. NCO man, now distracted from the poor soldier turns to me and says, “Yeah, I guess these uniforms are a little ugly.”
I say, “Well, it’s not the uniform that makes someone ugly. It’s the person wearing it.”
Point taken and NCO man bows at me and walks away.
What a dick.
At some point, I had to pee. Actually, at many points, I had to pee. For some reason, the girl’s bathroom is having an issue and there is a sign on the door telling us to go use the bathroom downstairs. I contemplate the sign and as I am standing there, I see a janitor walking by. I tell him, “Hey, I’m going to use the men’s room.”
He says, “No… you have to go downstairs.”
I say, “Oh, I’m not going downstairs.”
He says, “Why not?”
At this point, our friend John blurts out, “Look at her! She doesn’t need to be walking all over creation to use the bathroom.”
Janitor man looks at me and I look at him and say, “I’m not going to the bathroom downstairs because when I return, you are going to be mopping up amniotic fluid off your floor.”
Silence…. and then, he bursts out laughing.
“Alright” he says, “Let’s make sure the coast is clear.” He goes into the guy’s room and makes sure it is empty and then John says he will keep watch while I pee. I go in and pee and am very careful to flush and put the seat back up for the next user.
I’m so thoughtful.
But, really…. I was very good and more horrified by all the attention I was getting being so pregnant. It was really embarrassing and overwhelming but I had a good time regardless. Regardless of asshole NCO’s, regardless of sitting and standing and sitting and standing and regardless of Boobs.
It was a lovely evening.