Wednesday, May 27, 2009

the city loves you, the city loves a boyfriend

I've been a regular fixture at the bottle depot this week, turning the vestiges of our winter's boozy indulgences into solid gold. This in turn, will be handed over to a junk removal company (who claims to recycle and dispose responsibly) to haul away the piles that I have created whilst decrapping the basement and garage. With junk, sometimes it makes you money, but more often it costs you.

The junk removal company does state unequivocally that they will not take "paint cans containing kitty litter", so I guess I will just have to find another home for the kitty litter-filled paint cans that I have been so lovingly collecting over the years. Just as long as they take the dozen opened tubes of caulking that moved with us from London 11 years ago, I will be

The junk removal guys are coming next week, giving us one final opportunity this weekend to force someone to sleep on the basement couch with the hole in the seat through which the springs protrude. There will be an 18th birthday party overtaking the house, you see, and coming hot on the heels of graduation the day before, the craziness factor could very well be pushed into hyperdrive.

Saturday night could find me holed up in the bedroom, clinging onto my wireless connection like it's a rope thrown from a search helicopter into the cold north Atlantic which threatens to swamp my little leaky dingy. On the other hand, I may just he
ad downstairs, crash the party, and embarrass the newly minted adult with tales of my misspent teenage years.

I'm thinking I should probably take her out to a bar before she actually turns legal age, or she will forever regret not having done so. Kids today, you've got to do everything for them. I was 15 when I first went to a bar. How old were you?


Dr. Monkey Von Monkerstein said...

I was 17 the first time I went to a bar but I was buying beer in stores when I was 15. That sentence explains a lot about me, doesn't it? Tell your lovely daughter I'm wishing her a happy birthday.

Allison said...

Is the legal drinking age 18 in Alberta? It's 19 in Ontario, and you know, I can't actually recall when I went to my first bar, it might have been in first year university...however, first time drinking was at 15. That I can recall more vividly then a bar. In the burbs good bars are few and far between.

I wonder what life would have been like growing up in Scotland...I still dream about my favourite pubs there. :)

mellowlee said...

I was 15 the first time I went to a bar. Most of my friends were already 19; The legal age in BC is 19. I hope the resident offspring has a Fantabulous bday!!

Gifted Typist said...

Embarrassment, it's the only weapon you have, if you don't beat them, which I never have. But embarrassment is sweet. Do give details if you launch this WMD at the par-tay

Barbara Bruederlin said...

I shall tell her that the monkey/man who has always preferred to entertain guests in the warmth of his own home wishes her a happy birthday, Dr M.

You vividly recall your first time drinking, Al? That's either very good or very bad, depending upon what it is that you recall. And more importantly what you don't recall.
I grew up in the burbs too, but didn't care so much about the quality of the drinking establishment during my misspent youth.
We should really make plans to go pub-hopping in Scotland sometime. You are designated tour guide.

You were even more bad-ass than I was then, Mel, as the legal age in MB was 18, so I didn't have to fake it quite so hard.
I went with someone considerably older my first time, too.

Well, now I feel I must go the cougar mom route, Gifted, just to ensure that you get some entertainment. However if the RO becomes utterly humiliated and threatens to disown me, I will place all the blame on you for egging me on.

mister anchovy said...

I was a bit underage. I was a teen-age blues freak and my buddy and I went to a blues show. We wore blue blazers so we'd look older. Har!

Remi said...

17 going to a bar though I did buy some whiskey in a liquor store when I was 16. Never seemed to get carded until after I reached legal age.

Wandering Coyote said...

Ah, my first time in a bar was when I was 18 and it was in Montreal. I was introduced to Alabama Slammers and I have never looked back!

Barbara Bruederlin said...

Were they matching blue blazers, Mr Anchovy? I'll bet you were adorable! And so grown up looking.

I didn't get carded while I was still underage either, Remi. And I never carried fake ID either, got by on brashness alone.
How is Iceland? Are you taking lots of pix?

I'm not even sure what an Alabama Slammer is, Wandering Coyote, but it sounds like it could be trouble. No tequila in it, I hope?

BeckEye said...


I'm happy to have confirmation that there really is a market for my new Paint Cans Containing Kitty Litter Removal business idea. I'll be coming to a town near you!

Doc said...

I was 16 when my sister took me to "The Cedar". It was the kind of place you would go if you were looking for someone to bump off your spouse. At closing time they swept up the peanut shells, the blood, and the teeth. Good times.

Before the party make sure you down a fifth of scotch and then hit on the RO's boyfriend. This trumps baby pictures in the tub by a landslide. Also where something low-cut and tight and bring up the subject of "crabs" at every opportunity while you run your hands through the snacks. The RO will thank you for it later.


P.S. My word verification was "spitchil" by the way. Perhaps it's an omen.

Wandering Coyote said...

No, no tequila: amaretto, southern comfort, grenadine, and orange juice. Kinda like an adult's Shirley Temple.

Barbara Bruederlin said...

You are a woman ahead of her time, Beckeye. Your business savvy is topped only by your understanding of the needs and lifestyles of cat ladies.

It sounds as though you were fortunate to make it to adulthood, with a sister like that guiding you, Doc. Perhaps it was payback for some wrong you had done her when you were 5. Although, it does sound suspiciously like the type of bar I first frequented as well. I was just too naive to know it at the time.
Must go now, have to work on my cougar mom outfit and make a trip to the liquor store!

Sounds a little like a Slow Comfortable Screw, Wandering Coyote, only those have slo-gin in them. I love watching the reaction when you order one, though.

Remi said...

I'm back. It was amazing. Many pics to follow.

bloody awful poetry said...

I am ashamed to say that I have yet to visit a real bar and get well and properly sloshed. Although I was getting into over-18 rated movies by the time I was like 12. Because I kick ass like that.

Hope the Resident Offspring had a smashin birthday! My best wishes to her, please =)

Barbara Bruederlin said...

I can't wait to hear about your trip and to see loads of pictures, Remi! SO glad you had an amazing time.

Oh well, you have loads of badassery in you, BAP, it just manifests itself differently than it did for me 150 years ago.
The RO's birthday will actually be on Saturday and I shall certainly send along your greetings.

Unknown said...

Cool story, the first time I went in to a bar was when I was 15-16, can't seem to recall it clearly.

man with van in London