The President

Over the last seven months, I’ve complained at least 877 times about drunk people not knowing what I was dressed as last Halloween. What I thought was a pretty recognizable Big Bird costume looked to the over-served like a duck, a chicken, sponge-bob and my personal favorite, a chicken nugget.

Somehow, in my lamentations I forgot that I was once that person. I was once the person who, after ample libation was unable to articulate that I did indeed understand the costume but the words were a little bumbled coming out.

In 2009 I went on one of my favorite road trips ever. My first trip to Stillwater was a memorable one, filled with good tailgate friends and great memories. Kacie and I, upon arriving in town the morning of the Texas / Oklahoma State game, went first to Eskimo Joe’s. Immediately disappointed by the atmosphere, we headed across the street to a bar called George’s Stables, henceforth referred to as “The Stables.”

It was Halloween and the CATI crew was already pretty rowdy, and frankly, quite sure they owned the bar. The jukebox had been hijacked and the guys could not get enough of those $1.25 beers. Kacie and I walked in and immediately felt at home.

The day had begun. Patio, inside, bathroom line…it didn’t matter. We owned the joint. As the day wore on we owned it more.

As game time drew nearer there were more characters out and about. Being Halloween, there were people in costumes roaming the streets and bars, along with the general game-day crew.

Additionally, as game time drew nearer, there were less and less sober people in our crew…Kacie and I realized we were not going to make the drive back to Dallas. Two of our friends, we’ll call them “Scotch” and “Dustin” offered to put us up in their motel room. They were staying at the mighty fine “Circle D” up the road, across the street from the Papa John’s.

Once this had been decided, I went into full on drunk mode. Just before heading over to the stadium for the game, we saw the best costume of the day: Four guys in suits with ear-talky things escorting a dude in a suit with a Richard Nixon head on. While the secret service dutifully escorted him around, Mr. Nixon got lots of attention and applause.

Irritated secret service agent.

Being the picture whore that I am, I decided I needed a picture with Mr. Nixon and the secret service. So I did what any drunken person would do and started screaming for his attention. Sort of. Never has a chicken nugget been more embarrassed that I was when I yelled his name:

“JIMMY!” I called desperately to Richard Nixon as he walked by. “JIMMY!!!” I KNEW he was Richard Nixon. I KNEW he was not a crook. I just could not articulate the fact, and my beer soaked vocal chords were certain that I did not want to yell “Richard.” The shots and beer KNEW I wanted to yell “JIMMY”. As in Carter.

Dick and his M-I-B slowed as they walked away…only one of the agents bothered to look at me (in disbelief, one hand still to his earpiece) as they disappeared around the fence.

The day deteriorated. The Longhorns beat the Cowboys, but not until Dustin had offered my dad some whiskey soaked coke and Kacie had to muscle and obese man out of her seat. I also continued my reign of horrifying poor Major Applewhite by screaming that I loved him as he escorted the team into the tunnel.

Back at “The Stables” we continued to own the bar. Kacie and I patiently waited while Scotch and Dustin wound down enough to go back to the Circle D. I’m fuzzy on the details, but Dustin somehow knew Scotch was at Papa John’s and repeatedly kept calling there to ask for him. For some reason they repeatedly kept handing the phone to Scotch. Also, someone ended up on a stranger’s bike and leaving it in the bed of another stranger’s truck…but, I guess on the upside, at least he didn’t drink and drive.

Kacie, Scotch, Dustin and I settled in for the night. I think I brushed my teeth with vodka in order to avoid having to use the Circle D water.

That night I dreamed of Jimmy Carter and Richard Nixon, playing football while Major Applewhite brought them Papa John’s pizza.