Sunday, August 12, 2007

Fridge and R Von D on Golden Pond: Day Three


"I'm not sayin'...but I'm just sayin'..."

As stated in the previous entry, I woke up with half of a molar gone and severe shoulder pain on Friday morning. Still, I was not about to let a few minor injuries deter me from having the most debaucherous weekend of my adult life. Around ten in the morning I woke Fridge up from his spot on the pull-out couch. He was swaddled in the blanket his mother made him (dead serious) and had no pillow and no sheets. He and I recapped the previous night, had a few laughs, and then decided to make enough noise to wake up Big Ron and Wang. Wang was reluctant at first, but we then convinced him that the best thing for his hangover would be to sweat it out in the Roman Spa. Big Ron, on the other hand, thought that sitting in a hot tub was the greatest idea he had ever heard. Confused by his enthusiasm, he explained to me that after throwing up on the deck, he somehow made his way into the bathroom where he spent the majority of the night. He then told me that while in the bathroom, he thought it would be a great idea to splash toilet water all over his person leaving him drenched and smelling like urine. Wang recounted that Big Ron then made it into the bedroom but not before telling Wang how cold he was and asking him why he was all wet. If I were cold and smelly, I think a hot tub would sound like a really good idea too.

So the three of us set out to the indoor pool facility that housed the Roman Spa. Wang thought it best to not wear shoes or a shirt even though we had to walk through the facilities' check-in desk which was manned by a serious looking woman. Also, in order to get to the building, we had to walk through a stone covered road, something which Wang had significant difficulty traversing. So there we were, four out of shape mid-twenty-year-old hungover assholes in a hot tub together a little before eleven o'clock. Those with families and small children were wise to stay away from us. I can't even imagine the horror they felt when the four of us stumbled into that place. On the flipside though, we had the whole huge hot tub to ourselves. We stayed there for a little while, introduced Big Ron to the water slide and then planned out the rest of our days.

Fridge had mentioned to Big Ron earlier that Bad Dawgs would definitely be on the menu again for lunch. Remember when you were a kid and you woke up to realize that it was Christmas morning or your birthday? Remember the look on your face? That's what Big Ron looked like all day. For some reason though, he wasn't really excited about the fact that he was going to eat an inhuman amount of hot dogs, but more because they had blue cheese on them. Needless to say I was struck with a confused fascination for Ronnie's obsession for blue cheese, but I thought it best to let it ride and let him have his fun. We went back to the room, had a beer, got dressed, and headed out for Plymouth once again.

After a car ride filled with hate-filled music and funny stories, we reached Plymouth once again to gorge ourselves on the best hot dogs ever created by man. What happened next was something that should have been witnessed by everybody we know. Hungover and tired, the four of us still managed to put away 16 hot dogs in under an hour. Fridge and I both had four, Wang couldn't finish his fourth, leaving Big Ron to finish it. Ron himself said later that the five hot dogs he ate was not nearly enough for him and demanded that we find a Taco Bell on the way home. What made this display of manhood even greater was that it caught the attention of the owners of Bad Dawgs. So impressed where they that they started talking about the different franchises they were starting and hopes that R Von D himself would run a franchise out of Lowell, MA. I'm not kidding.

Full and brimming with confidence, we left Plymouth with the plan to stop at a mini golf course for some friendly competition. While I was the leader by three shots after the first nine, I had a Norman/Michelson-esque meltdown on the back nine letting Fridge take the day's trophy. Now, please understand that my play was not all that bad, but rather the Fridge sank three hole-in-ones on the back nine and wound up beating all of us by at least seven strokes. All this coming from him slamming his pink ball of the back wall and hoping it would somehow find the hole, which proved to be an amazingly efficient way to play mini-golf.

More pool and more sun followed and at around five o'clock we retreated to Fort Brokeback for a much needed power nap. Our friend Dana Complaina was coming around 7:30 and with female accompaniment on the horizon, we all felt as though we were going to be rested and on our game. So we slept and began drinking around seven. Dana then arrived and though overwhelmed with the level of "dude" in the room, she acclimated herself nicely to the environment and began putting away copious amounts of white wine and "IntensiTEAS"...whatever the hell those are. So around ten we ventured out into the Laconia night looking for a good time.

We started the night at the "Funky Monkey" which proved to be a den of iniquity far surpassing that of anything we had ever seen. Big Ron and Wang made the mistake of sitting down right in front of one of those touch-screen bar game things. For the next hour or so, the two of them would sit in front of the Mega-Touch 3000 and play the "Naked Photo Hunt." It also came to the point where they were getting so far into the game, that the pictures of 80's women with teased out hair and no sense of how to groom themselves began to repeat over and over again. Over 700,000 points and a few cocktails later, I asked Fridge if he wanted to head over to Club OG again. My reasoning for suggesting this was twofold. One, Dana had not seen this place and we had not stopped talking about it since she got there. Two, I knew that no matter how bad all of us got, we could make it home without having to call a cab.

So we arrive at Club OG to see that the place has about half the people it did the previous night. Sadly, Frank was not there. However, one OG All-Star that was in attendance was Barnacle Bill, who had his three pipes lined up on the bar. Fridge, fascinated by Bill's stories and racy sea chanteys, would spend the rest of the night sitting with his new best friend. I let the twinge of jealousy in my heart slide as I turned my attention to dancing. Later in the night, I thought the best thing I could do now to get a cheap laugh was to break out the "mom dance" that I have worked so hard perfecting. I got the what I wanted, but what happened next is something of legend. Dana threw down what is possibly the greatest mom-dance I have ever seen. I was shocked to see different variations of the dance which included such moves as a "spin" and "pointing to the sky." I asked her how it was possible that I have been working on this dance for two years and she, out of nowhere, can just up and do it better than I have ever seen. "Well," she began "my mom is a really accomplished 'mom-dancer' and I just got it from her." Normally my competitive side would have taken over and I would have done everything in my power to best her at my own game. In keeping with the good-spirited nature of the weekend though, I thought it best to just let Dana do her thing and I spent the rest of the night doing "the running man" to that Eric Prydz song. After a sing-along with Barnacle Bill to close out the night, we went home.

Saturday morning we had to check out of the resort and a tearful goodbye was said by all. And as I write this from my bed in Nashua, NH with severe indigestion, shaking from alcohol D.T.s I am happy that my summer yielded a three-day bender like this. I wish that there was a video montage in slow-motion of the things we did. But, the only video we have is of Big Ron splashing toilet water on himself. I guess that will have to do.

Final scores: Three days

Hot dogs eaten : 22
Beers: 80+ (two thirty packs, 12 and 6 pack of Miller Chill, however many bar beers)
Mixed drinks: 15+
Trips to Plymouth: 2
R Von D's mini golf score: 54
Fridge's mini golf score: 42
Karaoke songs performed by The Revue: 4
1000+ calorie meals: 5

http://www.baddawgs.com/baddawgsphotos/menu.pdf

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