Was invited up to spend the weekend at Lofi’s cottage – a quintessential “Canadian” thing to do over the summer! I’d heard a lot about the good times at the cottage from The Ex (he and Lofi were at college together) but sadly had never been able to make it in past summers thanks to baseball ruling my summer schedule. This time however, I was determined not to let a wonderful opportunity for a fun (and not to mention cheap) weekend away pass me by!
Lofi and her boyfriend picked me up Friday afternoon and two hours later we were at the dinkiest little cottage ever right on the shores of Jack’s Lake, one of the hundreds that make northern Ontario’s landscape so unique. Guzzler, who also went to collage with Lofi and The Ex, joined us together with a friend of his A. I’d met both of them on several prior occasions, so it was really not at all strange that I was hanging out in the middle of nowhere with a bunch of The Ex's friends!
Friday night was rather cold, so we mostly hung out in the kitchen listening to music and chatting. As Lofi's bf and Guzzler got progressively drunker, they insisted on micro analyzing every single song that played giving the rest of us inane details on the song’s lyrics, artist and even what they wore to the recording!
The Ex showed up on Saturday, and so did some more friends and it was full on party time all afternoon and all night long. Lofi's bf unfortunately had to bow out of most activities as he was seriously paying for his sins of the night before. Still, The Ex was there to take his place as “drunken fool of the night” and after consuming a case of beer, 2 bottles of wine and 4 cans of cider, he was by far the drunkest I have ever seen him. He became his other, not so loved avatar of Mr. Octopus (all hands) and proceeded to bug Lofi all night by declaring his undying love and devotion for her. His cries of “Loooooooooofiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii…… you’re HOTTTTTTT” rang out across the water scaring away the melodious Loons and waking up most of the neighbours!
Somewhere in the middle of it all, I think I experienced a revelation of sorts that night, and thanked my lucky stars that that mess of a human being was no longer my concern.
Still, I couldn’t leave the bugger lying face down in a heap of peanut shells and helped him to bed. The dink then tried to dry hump my leg yelling out – Cummon Bit*h, I know you want it.
Suffice to say, I SHOULD have left him to drown out by the lake, but instead managed to get him in and into bed where I’m happy to report that he woke up the next day with the worst hangover ever, and the knowledge that he’d made a total and utter ass of himself… and it was all caught on tape!
So in spite of The Ex's drunken ranting, or perhaps even because of them, my very first weekend-at-the-cottage experience turned out pretty well and I can’t wait to do it again. Sans the drunken ex though!