Free Kegs

Somehow one of us had met a young lady from Buena Park and she invited us to a party at her girl friends house. Vince/Vinnie was driving his Subaru Van, it was the width of a golf cart and had a motorcycle engine driving it. Vince was driving with Bubba riding shotgun and their shoulders were touching. We had to take a few freeways so Vinnie had that engine winding at almost sixty miles an hour, considering the crowd inside and the size of the van that was nothing short of amazing.

In the back was T Martin, Jackie Gomez, Matt and I and to say it was crowded would be a huge exaggeration. It was our own personal clown car, equipped with we six clowns. Sure we were missing the red noses, squirting flowers and bright suits, but to say we were clowns wouldn’t hurt our feelings.

We pulled up to the neighborhood and found the house, tucked at the end of a cup-de-sac, but our welcome was not a welcome at all. A few of the young men at this party apparently didn’t want competition and who could blame them, we were Costa Mesa boys, from Goat Hill! We were invited, we didn’t crash their social endeavor, so we were all a bit flummoxed. We pleaded to see the girl who invited us but apparently they were holding her prisoner inside the house, and sans bail money they were keeping her from us.

Quite a few pushed through the door and made it quite clear we should leave and pronto. We had parked a few doors down and as the arguing intensified I went over to the side fence to visit Mother Nature. As I was standing there minding my own business, literally, I happened to glance into the backyard and noticed there was a keg left unintended. Odd I thought, all of these young males and a keg sitting alone, blasphemy I thought, that and way too much testosterone.

I would need some help getting it over the fence but I was three sheets to the wind and didn’t give a damn. My brother popped up out of nowhere and I pointed out my discovery. I could see his evil little mind plotting already, score!! They were so intent keeping us out of the front door they left their flank unguarded and working with precise military minds we decided to take advantage of their weakness.

He went and got Bubba, for seemingly he was now tied to the plot, and as the rest of the boys backed away from the crowded driveway Matt of course had come up with a doozy. He sent Vinnie, T Martin and Jackie back to the door and one knock later and the steroid laced, lettermen jacket wearing bafoons were out in force. Once again, no one left to guard the flank, so naturally we attacked.

Matt and I checked the yard one more time and seeing the Coast was clear, we hurdled the fence, grabbed the keg and handed it over the fence to Bubba. Vinnie’s van couldn’t be seen from the driveway so we loaded up the keg and pulled the boys from what sure was to be a melee. The steroid boys were patting each other on the back, congratulating themselves on their frontal assault and victory.

We got in the car with ten to twelve pair of stink eyes looking us down and pulled a u-turn in front of the house, them scowling we shouting insults and laughing hysterically. A lot of middle fingers were flashed at us but Bubba held out a cup of beer and puzzled faces reigned on the driveway.

Matt had even grabbed their cups so I did the decent thing and started pouring beers for us all. We ended up going to Pat Witeck’s house for he too was hosting a blowout. When we got there nine of us wanted to stray far from Vinnie’s van, but we let Pat know about our stash and we never wandered far from the van that night. We all wondered about the reaction of those attending the Buena Park party, the disappointment in their faces, the sadness in their voices and the anger these neandrathals must have felt. Final score Costa Mesa 1 Buena Park 0.

Once again these are true adventures and no one could make this shit up. Love you all, sleep well and smile.

Crack Egg Out