July 5, 2008

Wake 'n' Cringe: The Hammock Request -SHOT DOWN!

There are have been way too many incidences where I have engaged in the wake 'n' cringe. For handy cringestorming, they're usually right in my text message outbox; my sloppy, late-night "great" ideas recorded for me to slap my forehead over come daybreak. Recounting all of my wake 'n' cringe moments would take an entire army of blogs and I'd have to hire assistants to type it all out. Since I don't have that kind of time or cash to throw around, I'll just relay my most recent instance of the wake 'n' cringe.

I was at a house party in Fishtown the other week. Upon arrival, the host--let's call him MC Hammock--gave me a tour of his new house and lead me out to the patio so we could catch up a bit. I used to smooch this guy a bit last year, so we have a eensy teensy tiny bit of history between us. No big whoop.

As I surveyed the backyard, I noticed a hammock perched precariously between two trees. I blurted out that we should go snuggle in the hammock together and raised my eyebrows to really drive the point home.

He gave me this look that was part-confusion and part-wtf. I don't even think he said anything; he just straight-up walked away. Crickets chirped and tumbleweeds rolled around in his backyard. Things got very quiet. I looked over at the superfun netted-contraption. It swung in the breeze ever so slightly, as if to mock me and my total crash and burn.

So, I pretended like nothing happened and nonchalantly walked back into the party. In fact, I totally erased the entire exchange from my memory as soon as it happened. It was like the Men in Black themselves swooped in and wiped my memory clean.

Until the morning. Over breakfast, Jenna playfully chided me about how I propositioned the dude. Apparently, I was all, "Stop! Hammock time!" and he was all "U Can't Touch This." I cringed so hard I wanted roll up into a ball and roll myself into a neighboring county. *heavy sigh*

Awww, man. I made a snuggle request and was denied! That was stone cold. I felt just like when Wayne wanted to play "Stairway to Heaven" at the guitar store and the store clerk just pointed to the "No Stairway to Heaven" sign on the wall. "No Stairway? DENIED!"

Well, some day, when I get a house with my own backyard, I'm going to erect the most amazing tricked out hammock with fluffy pillows, drink holders and a boomin' sound system embedded in the ropes. I'll swing in it all day long, sippin' fancy drinks. And, I'll throw my own hammock snuggle parties and invite all the hottest guys in the neighborhood. We will swing and snuggle until the sun comes up. Hey, a girl can dream, right?


Anonymous said...

you make me sooo happy . when i go out and see all the other girls i assume they are all the female Rico Suaves. I feel reassured.

i won't look at my phone saturday and sunday mornings generally. Sloppy words kill.

Gonzo Journalism said...

At least there's no permanent record of it. Outbound texts? Bad news. Sloppy drunk emails (and blog comments), especially with your real name attached? Wayy worse.

The interwebs has some permanent records of me being drunk and really earnest. My computer needs one of these: http://www.personalalcoholtester.com/Interlock.php.

maitreracine said...

I just found your blog and the MC hammock entry is friggin hilarious. The guy sounds like a tool for a) not spending time with you in the hammock and/or b)not coming up with a halfway decent response like "I should be Mr. Good Party Host but I'll take a raincheck"

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