My Friends are Lunatics

My high school had open house tonight. I am not going to talk about open house because that would be talking about work however, I did miss my current school playing my former employer at junior varsity football and I'm alittle bummed.

After a school event with parents involved, the teachers usually go out to a book club to read some books and talk about our day (because being the moral, responsible, role models, that we are, we cannot go to bars and have drinks). Word at dinner was that we were going to a book club relatively near the school but in another municipality. I'd been there before . . . wasn't impressed, but hey, books are cheaper at a dive book club.

I was late since I was coaching yearbook again (they tried to sell yearbooks at the open house). I pull into the parking lot, which is packed, thinking this is odd . . . it wasn't EVER this packed when I was here before. I was on the phone though, so I just parked. Then I noticed that the only vehicles in the parking lot were pickup trucks and motorcycles. Oh, and an old school bus that had been spray painted blue. Obviously spray painted bus . . . not a good sign. Loud music blaring, biker dude walking towards me, and I notice the sign - "colors and patches are not allowed on the premises." Colors like what? I'm wearing a red dress (to match my hair . . . I was thinking that the parents wouldn't notice the muppet hair as much if I matched) so am I allowed to come in? Again, just not a good sign, especially when I don't know exactly what the sign means.

I go in. There is a guy that I'm sure is an alternate to the Hell's Angels sitting at a table with a wad of money in his hand. A blonde chick, and I do mean chick . . . as in that's what she likes to be called because that is nice . . . is standing next to him, talking closely because of the blaring music.

Now I would probably be okay if I had my regular, covered in paint, clothes. But I have my "open house I have strange hair but really I'm conservative" outfit on. Ponytail man looks me over. I'm thinking, "They have a cover? What the hell?" "Ummm, I'm supposed to meet a group of teachers here." He laughs, but it is a short kind of chuckle. "Yeah, one teacher came in and looked for people but left . . . You're welcome to go in if you like." It was like I was being invited to hell.

My teacher friends are lunatics and/or closet bikers and I feel sooo set up. So much for going to book club with them. Luckily, I was driving a pickup truck too or I would have been mugged by the people kicked out for having "colors" and "patches" who were waiting in the parking lot. I can't even imagine what came off the blue spray paint bus. Lunatics, I tell you.