That story is the gift that keeps on giving. Elise tells it every time she introduces me to a stranger — even on the street.
“We went to the strip club for my birthday a couple of years ago, and Jesse drank a gallon of milk from this stripper’s boob. I was like ‘Oh my god we are all gonna get kicked out” but then the stripper just slapped him across the face and said ‘ain’t no thing, sugar, it’s natural as she walked away. What a n00b,” she says.
The jokes on her, though, because she gets the most enjoyment telling that story in my presence. I turn red and make wild excuses and exaggerations — and that little spark is like a Pavlovian bell that keeps her coming back.
If pictures like these are any indication, I’m pretty sure that Elise’s party was a success. Sarah was indisposed that particular evening, but got a make up party with various fried foods not long after. That meant twice the Elise funs for me, which is off the charts for any given week.
Suddenly I am craving fried food.