A little story for Ginger's "16th" Birthday

Ginger and I used to go out and tear up the streets of Richmond quite a bit in the old days (read: two years ago). We've met some interesting people while endeavoring to remain upright after drinking heavily. Two we reminisce about occasionally are Dude & Ek.

We met the happy couple out at a David Carter shin-dig one night. As usual, we were toasted. Ok, we were smashed. Tell the truth? We were blitzed from smoking in the bathroom and drinking red-headed slut shots like they were cups of kiddie kool-aid.

Dude Williams was definitely a man's man. He was older - not quite crusty - but defintely browning around the edges. His lover, Ek, was a series of B's: bug-eyed, blond and busty. I can guarantee you that Dude & Ek weren't christened with those bar monikers. To this day, I couldn't tell you their given names. But I can tell you that they could party.

Shot after shot. Drink after drink. Slur after tasteless slur. Dude and Ek were like senior citizens on a day pass from the crazy farm. At one point, when Dude put his hand in Ek's shirt, I almost passed out from shock. Actually, I probably almost passed out from alcohol poisoning, but let's not get into that.

Our experiences with Dude & Ek culminated in a parking lot dance party after we closed down the bar. We set the CD to repeat The Gourds "hick-hop" cover of "Gin N Juice" and we turned the volume all the way up, flung open the doors and got our dance on. Dude & Ek broke it down, twirling around the parking lot, Dude trying to cop a feel on all three of his hoes at the same time. After three-plus repitions, we said our goodbyes to Dude & Ek crawled back into the car to pass out for a while before continuing on to yet another party.

Someday I'll write about Ray Rice - who Ginger and I met on a South Carolina beach. He had knocked up his girlfriend and told us it was his sister. Or maybe I'll skip that story and write about "The Longest Day Ever" which included chunky grass brownies, a Redskins game, Jerold the man/woman drug-dealer who was confined to his house by his police-monitored anklet and two trips around the Beltway that culminated in Ginger peeing down her leg in my mom's kitchen. Ahh, good times.

Happy Birthday, Ginger...