Paranoid Ice

So this past weekend Sean and I ventured to Memphis for Memorial Day weekend! We stayed at my friends Katie & Rob's beautiful house on Mud Island with J-Stan & Ben, who graciously relinquished the guest room to stay in Rob's Man-Cave upstairs. We had some lunch at Fino's when we landed, and then headed over to Rhodes to give Sean a tour, hang out at the Kappa Sig house, and basically pretend we were still in college.

Me, Katie & J-Stan

I mentioned last week that Sean had a target on his back for a little game of BrosIcingBros. Well, he got iced for the first time just an hour after landing. Thanks to a little game of Bocce ball and some clever planting, when Sean was asked to go over to the bushes and move a ball, he found something else...

SURPRISE! That's no Bocce Ball!

Once Sean was no longer an Ice-virgin, he quickly turned into a deadly Ice assassin. As did everyone else. By Sunday, "BrosIcingBros" turned into "How paranoid can I make my fellow brethren?" Did you try to use the restroom? Hope not, because there was a lovely Smirnoff Ice in there, the bowl protected by saran wrap. Want another beer? Don't stick your hand in that case! I have to give them credit though, as the weekend continued, the Icings became more and more creative, naturally making every male a little more paranoid.

"Can I open that door? Can I open the fridge? Is there one right behind me!? Am I actually holding one?!"

Was their paranoia warranted? Absolutely. On Sunday we had a yummy crawfish boil. I learned you have to first purge the crawfish of all of their impurities (gross) before you can actually boil them. In order to do this, you have to pour copious amounts of salt into the water where the little critters are being held. As a result, the water turns this ugly, brackish brown color. Rob went into the cooler to start the first round of boiling. Instead, this poor soul got not only a batch of live, purged, crawfish, but another surprise as well:

Crawfish Iced!!! Ew.

That morning, Sean woke up with an Ice and a note that said "Pillow Iced!" Ironically, it was for Ben from the night before, and I actually slept on the Ice the entire night and didn't even feel it. Oops.

Now, the game is called "BrosIcingBros," so after witnessing all of this testosterone-only paranoid fun, I felt left out. The very well-hidden feminist part of me wanted to shout "Why can't I play!!?" (after actually having to chug an Ice, my feminist side said to me "shut the hell up, this isn't the women's suffrage and that drink is disgusting, you moron.") However, until I was thinking rationally, and not like a feminazis, I really wanted to ice someone. Sean had successfully silent-assassin-iced quite a few people on Sunday, so someone had to get him. And that someone was going to be ME. But how could I do it? What advantage did I have over Sean that he just did not possess? One word:

That's right. Cleavage.

I wish I could take credit for this idea, but it was the combined effort of Alex, Katie, & J-Stan. I simply had to take the Ice, my pride, and my apparent spurt of irrational feminism, and shove it right down there in my bosom. All he had to do was casually look down at my plunging neckline and BAM...Boob iced.

However...in this little game, you can "ice block" if you get iced. If you're carrying an Ice with you when you get iced, you can give them your ice and you both have to take a knee and chug. Clearly I did not plan this very well, because just as I yanked the condensated Ice out from between my sweater puppets in a victorious glee....I also remembered that I had JUST TOLD Sean about 5 minutes earlier that there was one more Ice from our six pack, hidden in my purse. 

Crap!

Once I pulled my weapon out from my arsenal airbags, he looked me square in the eye....and pulled one right out of his back pocket. It was like a duel, and I had clearly lost to this malt beverage bandit. Damn it. Foiled again. But at least he had to drink with me.

This is probably the most unflattering angle of me possible, but I'll suck it up for the game's sake. Plus, I chugged like a champ. And I've realized that no matter what picture I'm taking, my hand has become a permanent fixture on my hip. Do I think that looks good or something? Interesting.

The rest of the day we played some drinking games, ate some crawfish, as well as some other amazing appetizers--I'm pretty sure I ate my weight in Katie's sausage pinwheels. This awesome weekend flew by, and we flew out on Monday evening, only to miss our connecting flight from Memphis and get stuck in Houston (not so awesome). Then I was terrified we were going to have to spend the night in the Houston airport.

Maybe Tom Hanks can pull it off. But just a shot in the dark here, I doubt Ambien and Airports mix very well. I would probably get arrested for trying to break into the barred Starbucks and eat the muffins.

Luckily, because my boyfriend is fantastic and is actively serving our country in the US Coast Guard, on this fateful Memorial Day the ladies behind the ticket counter gave us a free voucher for a one-night stay at the Holiday Inn near the airport. (pretty awesome). The next day we were both exhausted and ready to leave the Lonestar State ASAP.

Someone looks a little sleepy. Handsome, but sleepy.

All in all it was a great weekend! By the time sanitation visited Katie & Rob's, I'm assuming they must have thought that over Memorial Day weekend, there must have been a lot of fun, a lot of crawfish, and possibly statuatory rape of 16 year old girls...since they are usually the only demographic who actually drinks Smirnoff Ice by choice.