Last summer, to celebrate Lindsay's last day with the bank, we all headed down the street to the Lakeshore Chalet.
The Chalet is a two-story bar and grill. The back of the building faces a small lake. There's a beach in back with a volleyball court and a ton of geese wandering around.
Well, there was of course, a bit o' imbibing and Ryan, being the smooth operator that he is, had several of the Chalet ladies drooling over him.
It was raining for most of the night, but late in the party, the drizzle let up and we all headed outside. Ryan was still fending off the advances of drunken ladies. One grabbed him by the arm to try to lead him to the lake for a late-night swim. She pulled, he stood his ground and his shirt couldn't hold up to the opposing forces. It ripped with a loud tearing noise, practically in half down the front.
This shirt was a nice, probably expensive piece of clothing. Did I gasp and try to fix it? Of course not! I almost fell down and wet my pants I was laughing so hard.
I barely had time to recover before Ryan, giving up the resistance, ran to the lake taking off his shirt. Next came the pants and before I knew it, Ryan was running bare-butt into the lake.
Oh I've laughed a good many laughs. I've had times when I've been scared I'll never breathe again, I'm laughing so hard. But I'm not sure I'ver ever laughed as heartily as I did that night.
Saturday is Ryan's birthday, and since I'm off to see the new Batman, I'll be missing out on the big party. but as you can see, I don't think Ryan needs me around to have a good time.
I do wish him the happiest of birthdays, though. I just hope it ends up a little less messy than his twenty-first!
Happy Birthday, R-Unit!