Monday, February 02, 2009

Giant Squid Kisses and Octopus Hugs

This past Saturday night was our monthly all-alumni high school gathering which I began insisting people attend about three months ago and which has become a rousing success. If you're fortunate enough to have friends you've known for over 30 years (and in some cases, your whole life), you know that the standards for acceptable behavior are very low when you're all together, especially if alcohol is involved.

Saturday I was standing around minding my own business, when I was waved over to a group of people to have my picture taken. Looking back, I remember them having unusually big grins on their faces, but I just thought they were really, really happy to have me join them in a picture. Did I mention I was drinking?

When I got to the group, they said, "Stand by, Jay." I stood by Jay, posed for the picture with my lovliest smile and Jay kissed me on the cheek. I started to walk away and he said, "Let's take another one. You're supposed to kiss me." The request for a second picture should have tipped me off to a possible setup, especially since the grins of the people behind the photographer (*) were growing even larger, but it didn't. Did I mention I was drinking? I did?


I posed once again with my lovliest smile and was kissed again my Jay...with an overwhelming amount of tongue and wetness. Everybody laughed their asses off. It was, as I had not suspected, a setup. I did mention I had been drinking, right?




I did my best to keep my lovely smile on my face and not freak out like Lucy when Snoopy would kiss her. For hours after the smooch sneak attack, I visualized Jay's tongue as something akin to the giant squid I had recently seen on the National Geographic Channel.







I walked back over to my friend, Brent, and said, "I just got French kissed by Jay. It was very wet. They took a picture. Now, I'm going to have to pay Luke for that picture. I need to wipe my face. They took a picture. There's a picture."


"Don't worry," Brent said. "The picture will only cost you about two bucks."


"Yeah." I said.


"Of course, the negative is probably going to cost about fifty."


(*) The photographer is our classmate Luke who takes pictures at clubs and sells them back to us. Clever bastard.

6 comments:

Just a Plane Ride Away said...

This sounds like a possible fund raiser! ;-)

Inca From Peru said...

I believe there is a law prohibiting the possession and use of a camera in a bar or anywhere people are getting hammered and having a good time. It is part of English common law or the Uniform Commercial Code I think.

And these cell phone cameras and camcorders they have now are a modern scourge. In the old days, you might kind of remember something really embarassing you did while drunk the night before, but you could convince yourself it wasn't really that bad. But these g-d modern cameras don't lie.

BTW, that wet-smooch-for-the-picture thing is one of the oldest tricks in the book; just an excuse to lay one on a girl you like and have it seem like a funny joke. Every girl I ever knew was hip to that one, even if three sheets to the wind. But not you, apparently. . . say,I may have to meet up with you sometime, where are these class get-togethers held? I didn't go to TJ, but. . . I'll be the guy heading for you with a big smile, tongue at the ready.

Lorna said...

Please be sure to post theblackmailer's delight.

Laurie said...

Just - Yeah, for Luke.

Inca - I think our next meeting will be in Louisiana...no Oklahoma... ;)

Lorna - I knew somebody would ask that.

bguidry5 said...

That's hillarious. Luke's been a perv from way beack when!!!B

Laurie said...

bguidry5 - I'm dreading running into Luke with his little satchel of blackmail material.