Fireworks (of sorts)

Happy 5th of July! I wonder if the founding fathers had a hangover on this day in 1776.

It started at Brophy’s with Harry, Jill, and Rebecca:

Then i met two awesome girls at the bar, D and K (names have been abbreviated to protect the guilty), and after they bought me an oyster shooter, i invited them to Harry’s boat to watch the fireworks show:

K got her obligatory dog!

The lovely D:

Yvonne all sassy n’ shit:

D was the master of procurement. We needed playing cards. She went on a search of the neighboring boats and found a deck:

Liar’s poker. First prize: a chaste kiss, flush on the mouth:

The night was warm & blue. The moon, crescent:

You lose, D!

Then K (the other procurer) somehow procured sparklers:

And she blew Harry’s horn:

And there was this group of seven or eight young people who showed up on Harry’s boat at some point, with a cake. We all assumed that they were friends with *someone* who was on the boat. So they stayed for the fireworks show. But when the show was done, and they were still partying on the boat, we realized that we didn’t know them, and maybe they were stow-aways who squirmed onto the boat with the benefit of a cake. K took no prisoners when she went top-deck and announced to them: “Here’s the deal: You need to get the fuck off Fuckin’ beat it.” My. God. The rest of us were sheepish as they summarily walked off the boat, one of them saying “I hope you like the cake we brought”. There was some debate as to whether they actually brought the cake or not, K claims she saw the cake before they arrived but D swore she saw them bring the cake on board. Either way, they were dismissed.

Then we started craving a hot tub. Harry mentioned that he knew someone up on the Riviera who had one. But they were out of the country, and someone was house-sitting for them. We figured, what the hell. Threw my bike in the back of Harry’s truck and wound our way up the hills, on a hot tub mission. There was much singing along to Queen’s “Bohemian Rhapsody” along the way:

After a few wrong turns, we finally found the place, got out of the truck, and got our stories straight:

Hoooo boy! K took charge, rang the doorbell, and a young guy with his young girlfriend looking on behind him was totally taken by surprise as K glad-handed / strong-armed her way in the door, saying “You have a hot tub? We’re here to get in it!” Them and the other couple who were in the house had no defense against our barrage of braggadocio. They stepped aside as we made our way to the tub. K was the MASTER — there was no stopping her. We soaked in the tub for half an hour, when one of the girls came out & told us we had to leave soon — she needed some sleep because she was flying out of the country in the morning. We stayed. Maybe that was mean of us, but when people are having fun, people don’t always think fairly. Here’s the house-sitter guy finally convincing us to leave:

Photographic proof: He punched her in the face!! (Not really.)

Next morning:

And now at French Press — First Fridays are FANCY first Fridays:

And my favorite vehicle & my favorite name come together:

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