American Storm

What is it about a beautiful sunny afternoon, with the birds singing and the wind rustling through the leaves, that makes you want to get drunk? - Jack Handy

Better yet, what is it about a Sunday morning in Vegas that allows you to run into individuals who are openly drunk and still drinking? Daughter and Girlfriend inquired about the "juicy details" that I said I would be leaving out. Well, their inquiry led me to share this anecdote about a brief encounter Ethel and I had with some of the freaks of Vegas. As we were leaving the final gathering of photographers, we were grumbling about the many things that angered us about the awards ceremony. Suddenly behind us there were these two extremely loud voices yelling, "American Storm!" repeatedly. I, for one, thought they were yelling at the lone group of Asian people I saw while in Vegas. I continued to look forward, hoping desperately to make myself invisible so these freaks would not engage me in ANY way, shape, or form. Nothing like total sobriety to make one consider drunks heathenish. I knew I should have brushed up on my magical talents when I felt a tap on my shoulder. As I turned around, the smell of beer from the open bottle the 20-something girl was occasionally swilling met me directly. Ah. Stale beer breath in the morning...delightful!
GIRL (slurred walk and talk): Do you know the American Storm?
ME: No. (GO AWAY AND LEAVE ME ALONE!)
GIRL: You don't?
ME: No. (GET AWAY FROM ME NOW, FREAK!)
GIRL (pointing to the poster seen in the photo that accompanies this blog): Them. [Yes, her words were eloquent.]
ME: Oh, yeah.
GIRL: Are you interested in them? [note the big word from the 10 am drunk]
ME: No.
GIRL: You're not?
ME: (DUH!) No.
GIRL: Why not?
ME: (unbelievably without some smart retort) We're leaving today.
GIRL (SLURRING MORE PROFUSELY): Well, I can get you in for free. Jus let me know if you wanna go....I'll set you right up.
Thank the Heavens for the elevator. The guy who was helping her yell, "American Storm!" [and is my hero in this scenario] grabbed her before this pathetic exchange could continue and dragged her into the depths of the elevator. Do I know her fate? Do I care? No. HOW she could have gotten me into American Storm was intriguing, although I do not think the American Storm fellas probably liked her type (being female, that is). So, being harassed by drunks in the morning is the juicy tidbit that I will share with the girls. I am sure that the quotes from this girl will be imitated quite well by Daughter and Girlfriend (who, by the way, LOVES the Girlfriend pin I bought her in Vegas) and will (hopefully replace "I love to eat grass!"). I shudder to think that they will both continue to haunt me.