April 08, 2011

The Bull and The Backlash: Part I

This post has been swirling in the abyss my brain for a few days now. I almost hate to post it after my last post; I'm such a bi-polar blogger. Hence why some people have more than one blog, I am resisting. I've come to the conclusion I need to make this a two parter, lucky readers you. Trust me, this is worth it. Part one depicts the tale of my sober{ish} ride on the mechanical bull {not a typo}, and part two will delve into the topic of why I want to swear off men, and the usual suspects who drive me to that point.

So this is my sister and I, consequently my BFF too. {She's so pretty, inside and out} She had to up and move to California this week. I have stopped bawling long enough to compose this post. Thank God for Skype, texting, cell phones and airplanes. I suppose I don't blame her, not much about piles of brown snow and frigid temps are appealing.

So there was a going away...party? Let's just say more like gathering. At a bar, in the burbs, a cowboy bar at that, complete with peanut shells on the floor and mechanical bull. Being the non-bar-fly type, I had no clue this place even existed. Seemed I was the only one. It was packed! Apparently I should've gathered from the name Cowboy Slims...or Jakes...or Jacks, that I should've worn my skank-a-licious attire, and not a turtle neck {see exhibit A above}. Holy meat market! Ugh. And this was an equal opportunity hook-up fest, oldies and babies alike, I felt...oldish. Well, I sat down with friends and stayed awhile, and had a great time. I had my two drink minimum, per the norm, and laughed and regaled stories of old.

Every so often, a faint whisper, a small innuendo, if you will, would make its way through our group, "ride the bull". {Very Field of Dreams-esque, we are next to Iowa, voices travel} Didn't matter who, but bets may or may not have been wagered to convince my sister and brother-in-law to do it. After all, "it is your last night here, just do it." Let me tell you, that bull had a line to the bathroom, or maybe 3-4 people, can't recall. Most often times, people just slid right off before that sucker even got going, suppose it had nothing to do with the alcohol consumption. 12:30 a.m. rolls around {I was about to call it a night} and I'm chatting with my bro, and there it was again "ride the bull". What happened next will live to haunt me, you and the Internet for years to come. I must have had a momentary episode of Tourettes because I blurted, "Oh come on, if you do it, I'll do it." Immediate regret. {Darn you James Earl Jones} Too late! My brother was racing to fill out the waiver. Expletives.

I got both of his 10 second rides on video, and am saving them for You-Tube, or blackmail, one of the two. For now, I will keep them in the vault, guarded by high security and lasers and stuff. He did just get promoted to "Mr. Uppity Up office" from "That guy in the cube", so I don't want any internet leaks to hinder his security clearance. After high fives from the group, I knew, my time had come. I pulled the ol' have to go to the bathroom trick. My sister accompanied me. She said, "Oh, you don't have to, don't worry about it". But I knew I would never live this down, seriously, never. Well and there is that pride thing {sigh}. And I kinda dared him....sweet Jesus, why can't I just keep my mouth shut. {What I will do for 20 bucks} So we're standing in the bathroom line, surrounded by "ladies" with mouths like sailors guzzling their Budweisers, and I thought to myself, oh my gosh, my sister and I are the only sober ones in this joint, and that I need to get my eyebrows waxed. And what the heck am I so afraid of? That I will fall off {that's just inevitable}? Or that I will care what these pillars of society think of me? "I'm doing it". My sister looked at me like I was crazy. And then the topper, the Mack-daddy of crazy flowed out of my mouth with, "besides, it will make a good blog post". It has now become obvious that I need some sort of support group. {Shush} See the lengths I will go to for you? I also might have mentioned something about this being the year of facing my fears and being brave, so bring it.

My biggest fear was not falling off, but rather contracting an STD from the saddle. Jeans from that evening=burned. So I signed the waiver, "not responsible....permanently disabled....paralysis....broken bones..." I said aloud, "I can't do this; I'm a single mom, what good am I to my kids if I'm paralyzed?” My sister's response, "oh sign it, if anything happens to you, I'll take the kids". Is that passive aggressive support? Well folks, a good 45-50 second ride, a standing ovation from the crowd {or 3 drunk guys}, and the respect of my brother-in-law for life. Doesn't get much better than that.

Now the bull backlash. Every pervert in the joint was now drawn to my bull-riding glow. Moths to the flame and so on. Stay tuned for part two.


  1. Jennifer UlrickApril 08, 2011

    Now THAT would make a great story...."I knew it was love at first sight when I saw her ride the mechanical bull". You just never know ;)

    Let me know when you join the rodeo circuit, I'll watch for you on TV!


  2. Jen-you could say you knew me when...if you wanted to admit to it:)

    When are you hopping back on the blog train? if I can post junk like this....

  3. 1) Hilarious, 2) Congratulations on the great ride! 3) Can't wait for part 2.

  4. Gretchen, I have a sneaking suspicion I'm going to have to give a play by play at the next Moms meeting..craft lady gone wild1

  5. Haha I bet you were popular after that ride! Looking forward to part 2!

  6. You have no idea. Just have to run a quick spell check on that bad boy, and I'll post it tomorrow.


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