16 March 2006

Double shot of HNT

From 1997-2002. The Birkenstocks I'm wearing still have the peanut shells that have been ground into the cork sole from when Missy and I used to go to Fat Tuesday's every Thursday night to see the Dead cover band we loved so. We would kick off our Birks, and dance barefoot on the tiled floor that was littered with peanut shells, usually ones that were there because of our peanut wars. It all started so seemingly-innocently, with one of us trying to toss a peanut into the other's cleavage. Within ten minutes it escalated to one of us re-filling the peanut basket from the barrel by the door, and hurling the contents at the other. It was all in fun, though, and the bouncers, friends who never charged us cover, or checked IDs of our friends, always laughed at us for it.

When we were good and drunk, we'd get up right in front of the stage and dance, crushing the peanut shells as we did so, drinks in one hand, never spilling. One time, the band stopped playing, and the drummer did his thing for ten minutes. We kept dancing. We were the only ones, in a packed club. When the band picked the song back up, a stranger said to us, "I've never seen anyone dance to just drums, but you girls really pulled it off." We laughed, nodded, and kept dancing.

We had the same pair of Birks. Sometimes we'd slip on the wrong pair when we were leaving the club, and not realize it until we were in the parking lot. "Your feet are in my shoes," one of us would say, and kick them off, and we would trade.

Whenever we got home, ploughed, we would have to make scrambled egg and cheese sandwiches with jalapenos before we could even consider going to bed. Then we'd head for our rooms, drunkenly shed our clothing, and a peanut would invariably fall to the floor, sparking more giggling.

Missy lost her Birks at some point, but I still have mine. They're probably 8 years old by now, and a lot of the tread is worn, and you can't even read "Birkenstock" on the cork. But the peanut shells are still there, and still visible, and they'll always remind me of the 5 years of Thursday nights with my sister.

Happy HNT:

toes in the sand - first beach day of 06

naked baby!

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