You slap like a cheerleader!

This weekend brought the indelible Carol Maxwell to our lovely little shitberg. And she was, of course, very late. Early Friday turned into an 11 o'clock phone call late Friday night. It seems our Carol was delayed as only she can be by ex-sex in Tacoma, Thai food on 4th Ave and gay strudel with Neil the Pharmacist.

I was not pleased.

Day 2 Carol arrived to wake me at 11am with coffee and the promise of breakfast. We Ended up down at New Moon by noon, walked in Burfoot Park after that, then headed back to town where Carol tried to ditch out on me to hang out with Kim Langston.

Again, I was not pleased.

Now, I'm not one to monopolize Carol's time. She's insane and over-commits and I know this. So, I have historically been the friend who doesn't make demands and as a result, doesn't get to see much of her when she decides to blow into town for five minutes. But not this time. This time she came under the pretense of celebrating both my recent birthday and upcoming graduation. As far as I'm concerned, this time I take precident: Fuck those Oly bitches; I've known you since Mrs. Mitchell's 4th grade class. Lita Ford's Kiss Me Deadly was our favorite song, we both "went out" with Andy Johnson and thought acid wash denim was the shit. You cannot fuck with that.

Needless to say, ditching this birthday-girl/graduate was not an option. We got iced mochas, Carol called Kim (who, in true Olympia fashion had a "wheat headache") and we made our way out to the far reaches of the Oly/Tumwater border to Carol's friends' house, "The Curry Palace" - named for the awesome color choices of two eccentric gays. At "The Curry Palace" I met Carol's pottery guru, Sequoia Miller and his other half, Ariel. They were wonderful, the new house & studios are amazing and I got to hold their friend's baby.

After all this excitement, I released Carol to visit with Kim so James and I could hit the liquor store. She said she's be back my 9:30pm. The result? An AWOL Carol, a drunk James and an aggitated Sam. I don't know man; I just work here. Eventually James, Samantha & I headed down to Jake's. Carol said she'd meet us there.

Long story short: Carol showed. We danced. James was really mean to Menini - who sucks. Sam was pissed at James for lecturing her on the pitfalls of retail middle management. Noah was there with, like, three other guys - yet still made out with James. And as we said our goodbyes out on the rainy sidewalk? That adorable fucking gymnast even got a little fresh with me.

It's important to note at this juncture that James had the hiccups for roughly the last hour or so of the night. And boy was he pissed. This means that he hiccup-made-out with Noah, which is pretty funny. It also means that at any moment that he wasn't distracted by tongue action, he was flipping the fuck out with hiccup rage. Make no mistake, James hates having the hiccups. A lot. So, we get home after dropping Sam off. We walk in the house & he says to me:

"I'm gonna go pee. When I get back, I want you to hit me... as hard as you can."

Outstanding.

I, as you can imagine, lose my shit laughing. How do you respond to something like that? Well, I am his bestfriend - so I did what any decent bestfriend would do. When he came out of the bathroom, we talked:

Me: "Ring on, or off?"
James: "Either. On."
Me: "Really? Okay, open hand or fist?"
James: "Open hand."
Me: "Can I back hand you?"
James: "Ummm... I'm kinda afraid of the knuckles. Maybe just a slap?"
Me: "Okay. 1... 2..."
James: "Don't count off!"
Me: "Okay. You ready?"
James: "Don't ask me if I'm ready!"

And I decked him. Three times. In between slaps he told me I slapped like a cheerleader, then promptly reminded me I wasn't allowed to punch him. And, you know what? It totally worked. Hiccups gone. James a little more sober. And I got to hit him... everyone wins.