In Which Ted Falls Down Repeatedly

Did you know that in the South, you can bring your own beer to concerts and they will check it for you, as if it were a jacket, in fact you check it alongside your jacket, and they will dole it out to you throughout the night as you wish? They limit you to six, which is more than enough for this girl.

I was intensely impressed by the boys from up the road, such handsome boys who can put on a stylish show when the occasion calls. Ted was flippin' drunk from the get-go. He could barely walk. The pre-party was at the home of two sorority girls. It looked like someone had thrown up autumn-holiday cheer all over their apartment. "If there's one thing I can say about Sorority girls," said Will as we stepped into the doorway, "it's that they have their season decor dialed." He nodded towards a trio of porcelain pilgrims holding vigil on an end table. "Those pilgrims are about to be annihilated for a manger scene." Actually he was right, the pilgrims did at that very moment get annihilated, but only because Ted collapsed into them and sent them scattering. Amazingly, they all survived the plunge. Turns out they were plastic.

As we walked down the street, Ted flew in front of us making a slalom course out of the street. When we stopped at a convenience store to buy alcohol, he collapsed on the floor in front of the doorway. I could see the guy behind the counter give him a weary glance as I tried to scrape him off the floor. "Donnworryaboutit," Ted slurred to me, "it'scool, thatguy's inmjoggingclass." All I could think of was, you get credit for a jogging class?

I want to start this sentence with 'what I remember about the Big Booty Dance party is..." but since I remember everything, I'll just tell you the interesting things. The music was hot even if the songs blurred into one another and became one continuous stream, everybody was cheerful, and at one point, drunk and sublimely happy, I got the idea to go into the bathroom and write 'OBAMA' all over my skin in lipstick. Will later confessed that this really freaked him out. It came off in about three minutes and I walked around with what looked like an angry rash on my arms and chest for the next few days.

Ted was not kicked out of the concert. This is a miracle. Instead, he was directed to sit in a plastic chair and to remain seated until the manager told him he could do otherwise- a time out. I've never seen a 23 year old get a time out before, nor have I seen the manager of a club try so valiantly to exhaust all available to let a ridiculously drunk and well dressed man remain on the premises. In Seattle, Ted would be Out like Shout. (Like shout gets stains out.)

Turns out that in the South, they're pretty hell-bent on having a good time. I have no idea how Ted made it home that night but it was not with us.