Mardi Gras this year was a lot more fun than last year. As The Math Whiz and I walked into the bar after complaining endlessly about the pounds we've gained this winter, he renamed the night, "I Feel Fat Tuesday".
In spite of fat feelings, I have to say that I wasn't hindered by insecurity. I met the sexiest guy last night. He was hugging me and talking to me about how much he loved my performance in 10 Naked Men last summer. I think he put me in an affectionate headlock at one point. I don't remember what this god of lust looked like, but his energy was sexy. Maybe it was pheromones or something. He was a Pheromone Monster. I can't recall ever feeling so attracted to a complete stranger. I felt this amazing chemistry and just wanted to jump him. You would think this story would have a happy ending, but, truth be told, I don't remember what he looked like and certainly don't remember his name. The whole night is a blur.
Obviously, anyone who reads Hot Toddy's Toaster Oven knows that I go out to my favorite bar, CC Slaughters, regularly. I drink often. I enjoy drinking. But I don't generally get trashed. While I was visiting him in New York City, Rob Byrnes commented that he waited all weekend to see me drunk, but it never happened. Even the hunky bartender at CCs says he's never seen me drunk. He won't be able to say that anymore.
Ladies and Gentlemen, last night I fell down while dancing. The single and gorgeous friend of Pheromone Monster was grinding with me on the floor. He, too, was a fan of 10 Naked Men and told me so. We were hitting it off. Having a blast. Then I fell down. I think it's safe to say he won't be calling me.
The hunky bartender at CC's wasn't working last night. So, for the first time ever, he and I could hang out as friends. He took off his shirt (at last!) and bought me a bunch of beads (so I could throw them at him, of course) and all the vodka tonics I could ever wish for. The hunky bartender is no longer just a hunky bartender. He is a hunky Toddtender. He tended to me all night and was very good at it. I wish he could be my personal houseboy.
Speaking of taking good care of me, Superman showed up last night. Unfortunately, he showed up after several rounds of drinks purchased for me by the Toddtender. I had hoped to dance with Superman or at least have a great conversation, but, alas, I was far too intoxicated. He truly earned his name last night. Superman rescued me from the evils of drink and drove me home safely. I owe him for this and will gladly give him any payment he requires.
This morning I chatted with Auburn Pisces about my Mardi Gras insanity. She was really happy to hear that I partied with reckless abandon. "You needed that, Toddy. You needed to just float through the bar in a haze and flirt and kiss and dance. I'm happy for you..."
You know what? It felt really, really good to just have fun and not think. I think way too much. But last night I just partied and had fun and threw beads and fell down and waited for Superman to show up. Laissez les bons temps roulez!