2001-10-07 10:33 p.m. Ok. So she was sixteen. I didn't know that when we were dancing. And if I had known that, I wouldn't have been buying her rum and cokes all night. Alright, yes I would have, but my intention wouldn't have been to get her drunk. Ok, yes it would, but really my intention wouldn't have been to get her drunk and hook up with her. Ok, yes it would have, but I wouldn't have acted on it. Really. I wouldn't have. Shut up. Shut UP! Where's all this coming from? Glad you asked, here we go. Way back in the day, there were six of us that went to high school together. We got as crazy as socially inept Catholic high school boys could get. Although girlfriends and college and life and eventually growing up began to draw us apart, when we'd get back together, it was always as if no time had passed. About a year ago, Matt told us he had asked his girlfriend to marry him. I'd met her a few times and thought she was just an awesome gal. Fast forward a year. Oh yeah, it's Wedding Weekend. Don't let them know, but there really was nothing special about the wedding itself. Oh, it was nice. Just not really groudbreaking. Yup. It was a Catholic ceremony, which translates into long-winded priests and hour-and-a-half services. (On a side note; When I get hitched, whenever that may be, I know it'll probably be a Catholic ceremony, but el-Priesto and I are gonna have the ol' "Speed it along" talk beforehand. Anyway.) One of the cool things was the limo, or should I say "big-as-hell fire truck". Matt's a firefighter, so his fire company chauferred the wedding party around in their big ladder truck. Cool, huh? Blah blah blah postweddingprereception-cakes. Ok. The reception? A drunken mess. Well, not really, not a mess anyway. But definitely drunken. Copious amounts of dancing. Significant amounts of time spent trying to throw people into the pool. Undercover missions to the liquor store to undercut the cash-bar gestapo. Improvised kareoke when the deejay left his mic unattended. And then there was the sixteen year old. My buddy Jeremy needed a wingman. There was this girl he wanted to talk to, but she had a friend and he didn't want to be outnumbered. So I went with him and we ended up talking to these two girls. Jeremy went off to dance with his gal, and after a while, the girl I was talking to decided she wanted to dance. In retrospect, I'm now pretty sure she wanted to do a little more than just dance, but dancing's what we started with, and thankfully (for my legal record anyway) dancing's all we did. We danced, and drank, and talked for a while. I knew she was younger than I was, but she was extremely well-spoken (and extremely good looking) so I didn't question anything. She went to talk with some other people for a while when I noticed Jeremy trying to get my attention. He'd been talking to her friend who gave him the lowdown on my gal. Sixteen. Yup, born in 1985. I was eight in '85. To my credit, I didn't really freak out, I just decided not to go out of my way to hang out with her anymore. I learned a long time ago, that Temptation has huuuge amounts of power over me, and I wanted no part of that. Luckily, my friend Sean found a motercycle helmet, so I distracted myself by seeing how hard I could throw him into the wall without causing pain. Yes, I am serious. Yes, I was completely wasted. Yes, if I was sober it still would have been damn entertaining. In any case, someone I've known all my life is married. And, while I'm infinitely happy for him.... I feel old. But at least I don't act that way downtown----uptown leave me a note, fool!

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