Coffee Pot, Coffee Pot, I love you!

On Saturday I went to the Bohemian Beer Garden in Astoria to have a few ice cold brewskies with my friend Meg (and just to clarify people, since there seems to have been some confusion this weekend. I am Megan who is occasionally called Don, DonJuan, [Megan's last name to prevent google search]. Meg is Meg. And Megan is Megan. But sometimes she is Gates. Or Gatesy. Oh, and Meghan may also be Megs, but frequently she is Meghan, but more often than not she is Han. She does not have a blog. What? I TOLD you guys I was a narcissist that only hangs out with people of the same name as herself. Moving on)

It was at this beer garden when I met the famous Curly McDimple of Ham and Cheese on Wry. As soon as I met her I knew I liked her. We bonded on our way to the bathroom, giggling like school girls as we walked. Actually, it was probably a little more like, "Get the fuck outs my way ho's! I gotsta pee!"

As we were waiting in line for the bathroom, we noticed a gathering of strange props just to to the right of where we were standing. Included in this gathering was a small metal crutch for midgets with curling ribbon wrapped around it (I never saw it. Apparently a drunk girl in heels took it before I had the chance to myself), a regular wooden crutch missing the rubber stopper at the end, and a coffee pot without the carafe. I turn to Curly, "Dude, what if I just take the coffee pot and walk out with it?" Curly's face lights up, "Do it!"

I grab the coffee pot, electrical chord dangling, and go to leave the indoor restrooms. As I'm about to walk outside, I notice there is a security guard standing by the doorway. I know that she stands in the way of all my coffee pot glory, so I hold my baby tight and walk by her like this is an everyday occurrence. She glances at the coffee pot, then turns her head away. I walk past her as Curly is attempting to stifle every bit of laughter attempting to come out. Now I'm outside holding a coffee pot walking among about 1000+ people in a beer garden in Queens. I wish I was like the Terminator and could have replayed the looks I received from people as I was walking outside. I get to my table, and everyone is looking at me like, "Where the fuck did you get a coffee pot?" I explained the situation, and everyone laughed. The table next to us called me over after about 10 minutes of watching me hold a coffee pot while drinking.Guy: My friends and I have a bet here of why you are carrying around a coffee pot. We have come up with 3 conclusions.
Megan: OK let's hear them.
Guy: Postpartum depression
Megan: No, sorry. That's just a beer gut. I am not aware of having anything growing in my uterus.
Guy: Bachelorette Party?
Megan: Yeah, that would be one awesome bachelorette party! 'Hey guys! I brought the coffee pot! Let's paaarrttyyyyy!'
Guy: Hm, ok. Third, you're crazy.
Megan: Your most viable conclusion yet. Actually, I'm just carrying it around for fun because there was a coffee pot in the bathroom, and I have no idea why. SO yeah, I guess I am crazy.
I spoke to them for a few minutes longer, then went back to my own table.

Meg deepthroated a toaster, then made out with a microwave later.

Eventually the novelty of holding the coffee pot wore off until I was about to leave. Everyone I was with insisted that I must leave with the coffee pot. If security was to question where I acquired my possession, I must either a) get indignant and scream, "WHAT!?! You let me take Coffee Pot in, but not OUT? I can't leave without coffee pot!" or b) throw the coffee pot over the wall, run through the door, and seemlessly catch Coffee Pot on the other side. Considering I'm not the bionic woman, I chose option a. I was kind of hoping that someone would approach me, but only one security guard noticed I was carrying a coffee pot under my right arm, and all he did was laugh.
So I'm on the street, alone, in Queens, carrying a coffee pot now. I don't drink coffee, nor if I did, would be sure the damn thing would even work. I start looking for a trash can when my internal dialogue kicks in.

Megan: You have to take this coffee pot home with you on the subway.
Megan: You're a genius, Megan.
Megan: You're going to be Crazy Coffee Pot lady!
Megan: Suuu-weet!

Now, many of you probably don't believe me. Lucky for all of you, I'm not afraid to make an ass out of myself in public, so I documented the event in pictures.

Coffee Pot gets ready to leave Queens. Awwww!

The look on that guy's face made my year.This guy insisted on a photograph with Coffee Pot as well. When I was about to take the picture, he he stopped me to put his sunglasses on. There is a very attractive woman sitting behind him (hidden by Coffee Pot) that I believe he was trying to score with. This guy was so cool, I hope he scored as well.This guy wanted to hold Coffee Pot too. When I was done with the picture, his cunt of a girlfriend muttered just loud enough for me to hear, "Don't you ever do that again!" Yes, sweetheart, clearly I wanted to fuck your fine man meat specimen of a boyfriend right there on the subway. The key to seducing random guys on the subway is to be drunk, and carry a coffee pot. Breaking News: Coffee Pot makes it to Manhattan! Sees the Flatiron Building for the first time!These ladies like white things, like me and Coffee Pot.Coffee Pot goes to Home Depot. Maybe a little Bed, Bath and Beyond. I don't know if we'll have enough time.Hard to see, but this is a remote control Monster truck some guy was driving down the sidewalk (God, I love New York). I figured Coffee Pot could use a little fornication (couldn't we all?) and I set her down for some good ol' electronic pumping.Coffee Pot enjoys a good "blowout sale" at Burlington Coat Factory.These guys had so much fun with Coffee Pot and me, they invited me for a ride in their Shaggin' Wagon. I declined.Coffee Pot finally makes it home. Possibly a little wiser, somewhat haggard, and mostly definitely knocked up with an illegitimate toy monster truck child.

THE END.