Lake of Fire

There are a few contenders for the title of 'Wildest Church Excursion', but the clear winner has to be the night that I ended up in the backseat of my car with a stripper out in the middle of the Plains of Turners Falls at 3:30 in the morning. It's both better and worse than I just made it sound. I've promised this post a few times already, and here it finally is. How did that come about? I'll tell you the story.

This was actually the night that started the beginning of the end of my weekly Church excursions. I could see that things were getting to a certain point in my life and I needed to stop. There were a few more trips after this night (we're somewhere in early November 1998 here), but only three or four ... and then a couple after that spread way apart. But what happened here was a huge sign that things were going seriously awry in my life. Not that I instantly turned myself into a model citizen right away, but it was something.

At this point Dan and I had become enamored with Wings, a strip club in Connecticut. We tried it on a lark, and came to enjoy the atmosphere and several of the dancers. One of them, Jade, left a huge impression on me with one fantastic lapdance (yes, I did name my Honda after her, if you're curious). It wasn't Anthony's, but it was a fun place to blow off some steam. But man, it was a long ride home afterwords, especially if you've been drinking. I only went to Wings once more after this trip, with Higgins, but that's a whole story unto itself.

I met up with Dan at the Cumbys on the far end of Main Street in Greenfield. He had this girl named Lori with him, and she was coming along. He was always picking up strays somewhere, and this one was actually staying at his house for some odd reason. Her and her kid. I kind of knew her before this, but she and I weren't close or anything, and I was kind of put off that he was bringing this chick along. But whatever, I didn't make an issue of it. I drove (that isn't usually something I would specify for the story, but it becomes a very important plot point later).

We got to Wings, and by then the three of us were getting along all right. She and I hadn't entirely thawed to each other yet, but we were getting there. We all started drinking. I paced myself, knowing I was going to be driving home, and besides that was one of the nights I wasn't feeling a burning need to destroy myself with liquor. The two September weekends in a row, which I'll blog about another time, pretty much quashed that for the time being. Aside from Lori being there it was pretty much your standard Church type excursion. Until she talked the owner into letting her get up on stage. She'd been drinking heavily, and was bombed, and she talked herself up there. She wasn't as good as some of the professionals there, but I'll be honest, she wasn't bad.

Even that didn't make it the craziest night ever, though. She danced in cycles through the rest of the night until closing while Dan and I did our own thing. I should mention at this point that Dan had the usual crush on this girl. That's another important plot point -- he liked her a lot. She danced for me a few times, but I was really interested in other girls there, and didn't pay her a lot of attention. She was doing fine without me anyway.

By the time it came to leave I was pretty buzzed, Dan was drunk, and Lori was bombed out of her mind. She climbed into the car in the driver's seat and wanted the keys. I said no way in hell, and insisted she move and get in the back. I'd have been fine if she passed out back there actually. She and I probably spent five minutes on that stand-off. I wouldn't let her drive, she wouldn't move. Finally, she compromised and moved to the middle of the front, between me and Dan. This was when I had the Buick, so there was a lot of room, but it wasn't the ideal solution I was hoping for. It was good enough to get us out of there, though, and I was all for that.

Neither of them happened to mention that I was supposed to drop them off at the Diner, where they were going to meet some guy that had Lori's car, or it might have been her actual boyfriend, or something .... the details were murky in my brain then, so I can't really tell you. But the point is that when I came up on exit 24 I just blew right by it. Only then did they both tell me that I was supposed to get off there, and they made it sound as though I'd fucked up, so then I got pissed and made it clear that nobody had told me a fucking thing about it. The rest of the ride to Greenfield was dead silent.

What do you suppose I did next? Of course. I hit the rotary and went back to the Diner. They both looked at me with no small surprise, but Lori seemed especially impressed, because she didn't really know me and didn't know that the Big Damn Hero thing is my schtick. But Dan should have known, even though I'd been pissy just before that and didn't indicate to anyone that I was even willing to go back. "Well, what did you expect I was going to fucking do? Leave her stranded?"

Naturally, when we got back to the Diner whoever they were looking for wasn't there. We didn't stay, and I took Route 5 back. At this point, Lori's hand started to travel into my lap, and ... well, you get the picture. I didn't say anything, but suffice to say, I was extremely uncomfortable. I hoped Dan hadn't noticed, and I put my foot down on the gas. My only thought was to get to Turners Falls and drop them off as fast as I could. And in a twist I did not see coming, Dan suggested that we go to the Plains instead.

I didn't want to. I tried to beg off, but they both wanted to go, and I crumbled and went along with it. The Plains, as legend has it, is this weird spooky haunted area out in the middle of nowhere out towards Montague. I'd only been there once before. We parked. And at this point Lori was all over me. I mean *all over me*. She and I made out for a while, her hands were everywhere, and I should point out that this was all right in front of my best friend, who had a crush on this girl. I can't account for my behavior here. I wasn't that drunk, certainly not like those two were, but I've been drunker and used better judgement than this particular time. I really can't account for it. Lori and I made out for what must have been ten, fifteen minutes. Then she wanted to get laid.

I knew the situation was going right off the rails, but there was too much momentum and the train would not stop. And the fact that she'd gotten me extremely wound up and turned on did not help matters, IF you know what I mean. At this point Lori climbed over the seats to the back and started getting naked. Dan excused himself from the car to take a walk. The look he gave me seemed to imply some tacit approval, but I did not know what to do. I've done some things, yes, but this was the world gone surreal. She did talk me into the backseat, however. I couldn't help thinking that I was betraying my best friend, and that I was taking advantage of a girl who was bombed out of her frikking mind, but the truth is that in the end, I couldn't do a damn thing.

Then I dropped the two of them off at his house and got my ass home to bed.

That was a Saturday night. On Monday, while at work, I waited to see if Dan would call me around 6:30, like he usually did, to see if I was coming over after work to watch wrestling. By this point I'd already told this story to Jacquie and Casey, both of whom were stunned. Jacquie especially. "I can't hear any more of this. I'm shocked. Completely shocked." But of course they both had a million questions, most of which centered on how Dan and I were. By this time they both knew who he was, and he knew who they were. (He had a crush on Jacquie, too, btw) I didn't know. So all three of us were waiting on that call.

He did call. We were cool. Dan and I were always cool, no matter which one of us were trying to steal a chick from the other. Sometimes best friends can weather that sort of thing no problem. He and I discussed that matter once, and only once, and then it was history. Lori and I were pretty awkward around each other, though, and I wasn't unhappy when she disappeared from the scene not long after that. And while I often use this story as the answer to "What's the worst thing you've ever done?" (it's the answer I gave Jen, too), there are worse things on my resume, and sooner or later I'll get around to some of that.

Usually, though, the story of the night that I stole the stripper away from my best friend and almost fucked her in the backseat of my car is good enough to take the gold medal when this sort of thing comes up.