Episode 4 in which someone's in a molestation mood

Sat night I'm having a party. It's not just any party either, oh no. It's a murder mystery party. This means for one night, it's okay to larp. Well, not larp so much as role play because there will be no swords, or boots of swiftness or wizards involved. And no furres.... definitely no furres.

*shiver*

Anyways!

So, yeah, party at Redgy's. We did this one time before, and not only did I have to act like 3 characters, but I was both the murderer AND the victim. Despite the fact that I apparently killed myself (and was a little bit of a slut... IN CHARACTER. In character people) it was a really good time, and I'm excited to do it again. I just hope I'm not the victim because if so -- I suspect you'll find a drunken Redgy over in the corner hunkering down with the tres leches cake singing CULO while everyone else plays! Yeah, it could be that kind of party. I've sort of been on a roll.

I'll talk about the party once it happens. This story.... this story is about molestation. And the L Word. Well... sort of.

Our story today, children, starts with our dear Renee Hatch

*puts on sunglasses*

porn star!

*hair flip*

Renee and I do far too much together. This is partly because she pretty much lives across the street and partly because everything's better with a buddy.... and I am a very persuasive buddy.

Me: "Costco/Fiesta run, wanna come?"
Renee: "Sure!"

Me: "Post Office run, wanna come?"
Renee: "Sure!"

Me: "Hiding in an ice machine at HEB for awhile, wanna come?" (true story)
Renee: "Sure!"

Me: "Gym time, wanna come?"
Renee: "uh... no"
Me: "You are dead to me."

So maybe not persuasive as much as persistent. Either way, there isn't really an errand I do without her and Zhan is very VERY happy about that fact.

To get back to the story, one day, while talking about various errands revolving around the party (“Hey, I need a Hawaiian shirt. Want to go to a thrift store? SURE!”), Renee asked if she could invite a relative to the party who happens to be a minor. Now, wait a minute, you may be saying to yourself. Molestation is in this title… and now minors… I thought this was a family blog? First of all, if you think this is a family blog, I’m flattered, but fuck no. Secondly, fret naught, as I said, hell to the no. If momma's going to be drunk, she doesn't want to be worrying about contributing to the delinquency of a minor... or of going off about stuff that makes it painfully clear that she's almost 30. Yeah, I'll be honest, it's mostly that I don't want to start a conversation that ends in "get off my lawn". None-the-less, Renee was great about it, so when she asked me to come with her to drop off said cousin and head to Wally World, I didn't think twice. Why would that be awkward?

Now, I should have known better than to bring up anything regarding the party with him around, but that would be classy and make sense... and that's just not me. So I tell a story (as I do) about poptart. I summarized it in the car, but I saved this little nugget from aim just for you guys:

Redgy: what do you think?
Redgy: Izzie Islander—Island native. Raised on the island, Izzie is a natural beauty and has a way of capturing everyone’s heart. Female.
Redgy: you're hot momma
Poptart: my only concern is not having the clothes to dress up for it is all
Poptart: but I’m game :D
Redgy: just wrap a towel around your waist
Redgy: wear a tank top and I'll lay you
Redgy: .... hello double entendre!
Poptart: bwahahaha

We laughed. Now, that should be that. I told a story it was funny. The end. Oh no... not for Renee.

Renee: "Are 17 people still coming to the party?"
Me: "Yeppers!"
Renee: "What about the other 5?"
Me: *puzzled look* "um, what... other... 5?"
Renee: "I don't know where I got that other 5 from.. you know, the other 5."

Now, at this point, I should have known something was up. I should have gone oh, I don't know what's up with the other 5 or changed the subject. It was as if Renee was trying to help me dock my plane at a terminal, and was waving these huge air traffic control flares directing me to go to the left (THE LEFT DAMMIT) and yet I, squeezed into the back seat of her truck (and to call it a back seat is being crazy generous... it was a fucking stool) aching like mad from my run, started to run her over, oblivious to everything. I opened my mouth:

Me: "nope, there aren't another 5. We bought a game for 15 - 20, then 17 said they were coming and so we have 3 le...hey heyheywhatareyoudoingwhyareyoudoingthat!!!!???!!!"

At this point, Renee decided that in order to get her point across, she was going to reach back behind her seat and touch me to send a hint my way without her relative knowing. This is where our views on the subject differ because she claims that she touched me. I claim that she groped me. Which is when I plowed head first into the terminal with my 747 killing hundreds... unless, of course, her relative is a moron.

Okay, let's be honest. Unless he needs to stop playing football for anyone other than the Special Olympics.

It was bad.

Halfway through my third "hey" that I realized Renee was not commenting on how much better my ass is looking these days. Nor did she want to break a piece of that off. Rather, she wanted me to shut...the hell... up. So we drop off her relative and try to bring up some new topics, but, try as we may, nothing could shake the awkwardness of what had just happened. So he gets out, I climb up into the front seat, shut the door, and, once he's out of ear shot, I get an ear full.

Renee: "Okay, what the hell?!? It is NOT an episode of the L Word up in here."
Me: "I know that now. I didn't know it when you were grabbing my ass."
Renee: "It's called trying to get you to change the subject!"
Me: "You are doing it wrong. A slap" *I slap her* "is change the subject. A poke" *I poke her* is change the subject. A fondling..... that is not change the subject. That's get over here, NOW!"
Renee: "It's dark and hard to reach! I did the best I could. You try doing it sometime and see what you do."
Me: "I sure as hell wouldn't fondle you!"
Renee: "You couldn't handle me!"
Me: Well don't try to handle me then!"
Renee: "TWO SHEETS!!!"

*giggles all around*

So now, anytime I am in Renee's truck, I'm going to think of the L Word. Maybe one day I will open the truck door to find Jennifer Beals naked trying to jump me. Until then, I will just laugh.

You may now be saying to yourself, sure Redgy, that was funny, but what the hell is two sheets? Well, this is something I just learned myself. Apparently Zhan and Renee were friends with perverts growing up, so they informed me that there is a practice at sleepovers to prevent... accidental molestation? Again, I'm convinced they are either delusional or just friends with crazy people, but the general idea is that when you need to share a bed with someone, one person is under the sheet and the other person is above the sheet. This way, you each have your own space and will not suddenly turn gay or something. (Quick! Someone tell the southern Baptist convention... we have a cure! Who knew?!?)

What made it worse is that when these two were saying this, they were looking at me like *I* was the crazy one for not knowing the rule. Which really only means one thing: I guess... out of the three of them... I am the perverted friend.

Good times.

You have all been warned!