Band was on a tear – haven’t practiced together in ages, so I was bouncing off the walls having a blast and probably mis-pacing myself drink-wise. By the time the cop walked in, all the Docs were warning him “Oh boy, you’ve got your hands full tonight…” while I put down Gretzky (that’s my Goldtop’s name) and jumped into his arms wrapping my legs around him. Asked how much I had to drink and whispered back “Only a couple officer…” Docs gotta get home to real families and life, and cop and I jet back to SF.
One of my fave bars in SF is Lefty O’Doul’s, as I know people there, they have a fun piano bar up front and sssshhhhhh, sometimes I get passed free drinks and shots. Plus near cop’s place, so we can stumble back when need be. Well, “need be” was in effect last night, as we drank and laughed and did shots and met friends – lather, rinse, repeat… Before I knew it, it was last call – noooo!!!! Start walking back - still amped from rehearsal (and diet Red Bulls / Ketel One) and particularly having fun. Made cop give me a piggyback ride, walked on my hands for half a block, sang loudly, did Rockette high-kicks with my awesome new boots – just mucking about.
So we’re a few blocks away and walking up a pretty steep dark street – kinda dingy area. Nearing the top I see an unopened big Lemon-Lime Powerade plastic bottle sitting in the middle of the sidewalk with nobody around. Let go of cop’s arm, lined up straight-on (no soccer-style for this American girl) and announced, “Karyn Dempsey, with only a half a foot and special gorgeous boots will try this to set the NFL record. The snap, ball down…”, took three steps and BAM!!!! - tried to launch that thing into the street. Form was perfect, head down, caught it square on the bottom – it’s up, and it’s – well it’s, oh no…NOT GOOD…
Turns out it wasn’t unopened NOR was it lemon-lime Powerade – the millisecond my foot connected, that thing exploded like a Michael J. Fox can of Coke – just a wall of yellow – almost hit me in the nose. All over my face, soaked my hair, my coat, MY GD NEW BOOTS!!! The cast of the Poseidon Adventure didn’t get as drenched as I was – literally spitting and wiping my eyes. Just stood there in shock – wide-eyed staring at cop – “What the hell just happened?” As cop stumbles over, trying not to fall over laughing, he gets close, makes a face and says…
“Oh Christ, Karyn, that was piss…”
And he was PARTLY right, as my jeans and blouse were also splotted with crap like some Jackson Pollock poo painting… Now it’s setting in I’m not in a good place – fragrant piss smell envelops me – wondering what was on the menu for that bum who wrung out his kidney into that bottle. And how the freakin’ hell do you even begin to poo into a Powerade bottle? That’s an aim Lee Harvey Oswald would envy…
Before I could start crying, I start laughing – my default emotion. So we walk home laughing, screaming, extreme gagging – never had a better, longer shower in my life. So you’ve officially been warned about mysterious bottles in SF. Let them be...
Karyn with a Y the hell did I do that?
