WOW!!! I had a FAB time in LBK last weekend. I got see my BFFFF get hitched, and partied balls for a few days, home-style. Needless to say, Sunday morning was pretty rough for me, and I was NOT looking forward to my flight home that afternoon.
10:00am Phone Call
Mom: You up?
Me: yussssss (wondering who is calling me)
Mom: Still wanna do lunch?
Me: yussssss (Holy cow, I think I drank 2 bottles of Chardonnay last night)
11:00am Phone Call
***MTS=Mark the Shark=Dad (It also helps if you imagine this text in a Country-Mean-Funny-KickAss-Dad-Voice)
MTS: Well you sound like shit.
Me: Umm, yeah. (trying to gather my time-frames, and wondering just how late my folks stayed at the reception)
MTS: Well, get your ass up!!! We're going to lunch with your grandparents. Red Lobster. Be there. Noon.
Me: I just threw up in my mouth.
Dad: NOON!!!
11:15am to 11:45am consisted of a series of calls trying to wake my little sister up, and convince her to come get me and take me to Red Lobster with her, despite the fact that it was completely out of her way. There was then a series of calls in attempt to lead my sister to my location. It ended with me looking out the front door, closing it in disgust, and admitting to my 18 year old sister that I was, in fact, at the house with the truck parked half-way in the street, other half UP on the sidewalk. wow.
Noon. I enter Red Lobster and am immediately intimidated by the crowds of people dressed in fancy church-gear. Always WORST part about going to eat on Sundays. I know what you're thinking, but Red Lobster is still considered "fancy" in Lubbock. Judge if you want. Anyways, WHAM! I am slapped in the face with the scent of middle-class fish. I give Sissy "that look" and head for the bathroom. There are 3 women over 60 waiting in line, and sudden paranoia takes over me. Must find sister.
I get to the table and feel the eyes of those who spawned me staring me down. HARD. Dad does a fake sniffle as though he can smell me sitting there. Stan the Man (Grandpa) is, of course, oblivious and loves to see me all the same. My sister laughs in amazement of my appearance/slurred speech/discombobulation. I order some DP in hopes that it might help, but end up back in the bathroom praying to the porcelain God.
That sucked, and there's really no point to that story, except for that I puked at Red Lobster last weekend.... incase you were wondering.
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