This, my friends, is the Social Olympics at Midtown Sundries at Lake Norman ... before.
Before the baby pool flooded the field from some Chris Farley type doing a belly flop into it, before people were riding inflatable liquor bottles, before people were squirting each other with water guns full of beer ... before the games began, if you will.
While the Olympics of soccer, the World Cup finals, were this past weekend, there was another form of Olympic games being played right here in Charlotte, RockHouse Event's Social Olympics — The summer (drinking) games of Olympic drinking.
The opening ceremony consisted of tapping a Miller Lite keg.
And the Olympic events included 16 teams competing in ...
• Flip Cup
• Suck-N-Blow (with a playing card ... get your mind out of the gutter)
• Junk in the Truck — where strap a box with a small opening full of ping pong balls to the players back and they have to shake them out
• Dizzy Bat — this is a lot more entertaining than when you use to play this at summer camp, because people are dizzy, and drunk
• Wild Rumpus
• Water Balloon Relay Race
• And the infamous swimsuit swap ...
The swimsuit swap consists of a boy and a girl running into a porta-john and completely swapping swimsuits. As you may know, guys do not wear tops with their swim trucks. One girl came running out of the bathroom with no top on, and used her hands to help her accelerate in her run vs. covering her boobs.
Either she has no modesty, or she just got a boob job and wanted to show them off.
Kudos to the guys that wore shirts — I mean, sure it took a few extra seconds in the competition, but at least the girl got to keep her dignity — while all the guys had to wear bikini bottoms like speedos. Way to take one for the team.
But of all the games, the worst game was being played on me …
This really hot guy came running over to me with a LazyDay photographer in tow.
“Can I get a picture of you? I’m a writer too — I love your work.”
Besides aspiring writers, and really creepy guys who send me e-mails asking for my shoes to include in his high heel collection – no one cares who I am.
He acted like I was the greatest thing since sliced bread (though, I don't really understand that saying because there are a ton of things greater than sliced bread — tater tots for example). But an hour later, he tells me that my column is just "OK" and I am not funny. OK, so why are you a fan of my writing? I would have preferred he tell me I’m fat and have a big nose.
And the winner is ... not that dude.
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