favorite night part 2

Locating Laura was not a difficult task as this party was strangely female free... so without much effort I spotted her talking to the DJ. Every time we go out together we request the exact same songs...It has even gotten to the point that this DJ knows what to play before we ask him. Giving no thought to the other bar patrons, we converge on and thus dominate the "dance floor" and show off our sweet move. By sweet moves I mean I do the robot and the mom dance....and occassionally break out the electric slide. Nothing makes me more content than performing the electric slide to random songs....this preference actually got me kicked out of a bar in Wildwood. Laura, on the other hand, through years of soiling the family name by cheerleading (Schramm's do not cheer lead...we are the victorious recipients of said cheers by a worthless leader) has developed surprising rhythm..clearly overcoming her skin color handicap.


After a bit I decided stop dancing and pushed my way to the bar for another drink. Perching patiently at the bar awaiting my turn I found myself standing next to some random guy who began trying to make conversation with me. Having nowhere else to go I just sat their and made small talk with him until he got the bartenders attention and offered to buy me a drink. I tried to decline by informing him that he was going to buy me a drink that I was probably going to get for free anyway...but he was insistent. Deciding that I had already wasted enough time talking to him and now I was refusing free alcohol, I agreed to his offer. Although I am strictly a beer drinker, I told him that I would enjoy a red bull and vodka...obviously because I detest both red bull and vodka. I figured I could give it to Laura, thus making his attempt at courting me appear to be a generous act of sisterly love. After a few more moments of listening to this loose leaf paper resembling guy describe his law career in NYC I was able to free myself and return with my prize to my sister. Almost as if on cue, the second I reached Laura she swung her arms around splashing my free drink all over the floor. Laughing it off, we continued our dance party, all the while slipping on the pick up attempt of some poor guy who clearly did not know who he was dealing with.

By this time we had been in the bar for a few hours and were therefore a few hours more intoxicated. It had been a bit since my father fled us and the bar, "driving 150 miles a hour with his head on fire"...(my fathers favorite mode of transportation) My cousin Mike walked up to me and demanded that I order the obligatory Imperial Pizza..which everyone in Delaware County knows means the end of the evening. I placed an order right in the bar, screaming into my cell phone which at the time made more sense then stepping outside. I then located Kate and informed her of our pizza delivery imposed time constraint. We had to collect ourselves, make our exit and walk the mile to my house before the pizza arrived. Collecting ourselves turned out to be more difficult than originally anticipated. Usually 1 out the remaining 6 of us will assumed the responsible most sober position and leads the rest. Perhaps because that person ducked out hours earlier with his head on fire, there was no one to take the lead. I would locate my shoes and bag only to place them down elsewhere. Laura would locate her boyfriend but lose her pocketbook. Meanwhile, my sister Kate's boyfriend Tom was found surrounded by a group of females...much to her delight. Tom appeared to either be bumming cigarettes from them or showing off his impression of a stroke victim. By this point, many of those girl's boyfriends also began to notice and congregate around Tom. In a matter of moments a small fight broke out with Tom directly in the center. Poor Tom couldn't understand why he was involved in this fight. I, being the closest and most likely to jump into a fight without thinking, jumped into this fight without thinking. I linked arms with Tom and drug him out the front door...Outside we found ourselves alone.. and much like a soldier in combat, being isolated is a very undesireable position. Of the 2 of us, I was the least likely to be punched in the face upon stepping foot back in the bar, so I told Tom to place his hand on the exterior wall of the bar like a 3 year old would be told by his mother after getting out of the car in a busy parking lot. I walking back in intending only to grab my sisters and leave. Unfortunately this group of guys were still seething and Tom cannot follow directions. No sooner had I reached the top step when I saw these guys lunge toward me to gain access to Tom, who had followed me back inside. Now I found myself in the center of a fight. Before now I was able to completely understand this group's desire to murder Tom. He was drunk and talking to drunk girls who just happened to have drunk boyfriends. However, finding myself on the receiving end of their aggression infuriated me. Thankfully, during this time the bartender had begun making his way to the front door to return my debit card to me....a habit that leads to me believe that I am the only person alive the DESERVES to have their identity stolen. Frank the bartender is a big guy and the image of his picking up one of my offenders like a baby was priceless.

So now, just to recap...i walked into this bar, mocked everyone, demanded free drinks, destroyed the dance floor with red bull and vodka, proceeded to slip in it repeatedly and then participated in a bar fight. Normally these behaviors are not rewarded...especially by the bar's owner. Unless your Steph Schramm. Not only did I have the bartender run after me to give me back my debit card (a move I view as going above and beyond the call of duty) and save me from a fight, but got a personal apology by the owner (remember...Tom was in the wrong), a kiss and an offer to be taken out on a date. It is situations like this that perpetuate my insanity....it's simply the positive reinforcement of a negative behavior.




By this time my entire group had made it outside...unfortunately the last couple minutes added a degree of hostility to our otherwise cheerful clan. Kate was angry with Tom but he was too drunk to realize or even stammer a shallow apology. Likewise, Kate was drunk thus making it impossible for anyone to reason with her. Kate started off for home escorted by Laura and my cousin Mike. The only person not accounted for was Laura's boyfriend Matt...apparently he decided to sprint back to my house...stopping only to throw up in my neighbor's driveway. Since I was the only one left it became my responsibility to ensure Tom's safe arrival at my house. I firmly grasped his hand and began dragging him home. Thankfully, we were followed almost the entire way home by a white van...I was certain that we were going to be kidnapped or raped or asked to buy designer imposter handbags.


After a few blocks we were able to catch up with Laura, who was now walking alone as she didn't want to take the trademark horror movie short cut through the woods with Kate and Mike. She, too, had noticed the white van following our slow march home. Rather than ignore the lurking car, Laura decided to taunt the driver. Now, regardless of this creepy car's intent, it was 2 am and a drunken group of girls (Tom did not count as a man at this moment due entirely to his level of consciousness) was being stalked by a random van with unclear intentions. Intuition dictates that we get ourselves out of this situation as quickly and quietly as possible....once again, unless you are a Schramm. Schramm girls live in a protective bubble, confident in the fact that we can say or act in any manner we chose and regardless of the situation Mr Schramm will come to our rescue. Like the time that Kate got accused of stealing candy at the 7-11, Mr Schramm charged up to the store to clear his eldest daughter's name...resulting in a lifetime ban imposed on everyone in my family. Or the time Laura had friends over and a few of them sat outside of my father's house smoking weed, unbeknownst to her. My father physically removed the 2teenage boys and 2 girls from his front step by literally tossing them well past his property line...cops were called, charges were filed. The whole situation was resolved the next morning when one of the girl's fathers showed at Mr Schramm's house with a baseball bat...my father calmly walked over to him and plucked the bat out of this man's hand despite his attempts to maintain possession of his weapon. Or even the time that the hallway of my apartment caught on fire...blocking my only means of escape. Did i call the fire department? No, I called my father. I called him 3 times in a row each time reaching only the answering machine. So, I beat the fire out and continued my dinner. If Mr Schramm couldn't be reached to save me then it obviously wasn't a life threatening emergency. This backwards thinking is a direct result of our upbringing. Therefore, it is no surprise that Laura felt comfortable drunkenly heckling a creepy white van stalking her on her walk home from a bar at 2am.





At some point during our journey we passed by a nicely manicured lawn serving as a stage for a For Sale sign. Laura decided at that moment that she now could greatly benefit from the protection that sign could offer...most likely to send fear into the heart of the van's driver. Without a thought, Laura liberated the sign from it's home and proudly resumed her own personal parade. I was busy trying to reteach Tom how to walk....thankfully I have seen Santa Claus Is Coming to Town multiple times and was able to paraphrase the "put one foot in front of the other" medley performed by the Winter Warlock and Kris Kringle. We continued on for a few more blocks until Laura found a cat. She immediatly forgot about her sign and ran over to scope up a tiny gray kitten. The kitten appeared to enjoy her attention so Laura decided to bring him with us...despite the fact that we had 4 other cats at home. Finally, after what seemed like hours, our group reached our destination and we stumbled through my front door. We were greeted by an irate Kate, an exhausted Matt and a hungry Mike. Kate was still angry at Tom for his bar behavior and demonstrated it by flipping the 2 newly delivered warm and delicious pizza boxes over at him. They "fought" for a few minutes until fell asleep on my couch, palsy hands curled and mouth open. Each of us found our beds and drifted off to sleep...ending on of the funniest nights of my life.





Early the next morning I woke and venured downstaires to retrieve a cold glass of water. Returning to my room, I was greeted by Kate, who had followed me in and set up camp on my bed. A few minutes later, Laura awoke and joined us. We sat on my bed laughing about the previous night and attempting to fill in the gaps of our adventure. Moments later, from Toutant's room, we heard our familiar chant coming from Mike's mouth......Dick Smackarelli, Dick Smackarelli.....