Bachelor Weekend

Well, I've returned from a weekend in Wisconsin. It was a great time, exactly what I needed and I think what many people needed. Great group of guys. Eric really has great friends.

Only knowing Matt and Eric, I was a little unsure how the weekend would be. I have few Eric stories, as I only met him four months ago, and these guys were all friends of his from high school and college. But I was helped by the fact that the two groups mostly hadn't met before, so I was just another new person among a few to everybody.

Matt and I got to my aunt's lakehouse first, at around nine Friday. It was a good half hour and pitch black by the time the next person, Steve, arrived. The mosquitoes were already blood-thirsty but we waited by the road to make sure everyone found the place alright; it's a really tricky drive for first-timers, not aided by the darkness of night. No problems. We heard some cats being strangled across the street and one car passed us a few times and honked just as they became even with our positions. It was strange, and the first time, I jumped like I always do. Like a girl.

Eric and Joe went to the Pick-n-Save to get food for the weekend and we all congregated in the kitchen with more silences than awkward conversation, and then someone pointed to the lake depth map on the fridge and asked where the lakehouse was. Before I could answer, someone noted that it's marked and then asked what the "X" was further around the lake. Matt blurted out "Duke" and then weirdly tried to pass it off as "Deke" insisting that was a word. It was great, because it allowed this group of strangers to laugh and make fun of something together. So we created this whole running joke about how every lake has an overseer, titled "The Duke" and how when you buy a lakehouse he provides the welcome kit at the closings and how no lake decision happens without his say-so. Eric later would have The Duke also be a notary public, which seems fitting, because one needs more duties than just welcome-kit-giver.

So almost immediately, after that pocket of initial awkwardness, everyone seemed very comfortable with each other. I told Matt on the way back to Chicago that by Sunday, it seemed like everyone had been friends for years.

Saturday was supposed to T-storm, according to Matt's magical phone, but nary a drop hit us all day. We spent it at Noah's Ark in the Dells. The weather was in the eighties, probably, and the sun was out in full force, yet the place was empty. We discovered that Pepsi cans had a $10 off coupon on them for Noah's Ark, like Coke cans here do for Six Flags, and we all took a can and drank them on the way. $20 is insanely cheap for all that water fun.

Eric had never been to Noah's Ark (America's Largest Waterpark -- this side of Kenya) so we made it our job to ride every watercoaster at least once. I hadn't been since I was a kid (pre-circus world) so none of it except for the zip lines was familiar. But man alive is that place fun. Great coasters, great prices with the cans, but damn was it murder walking barefoot around the park. Between the attractions are inconsistent stone walkways, that feel like gravel, or daggers, and after hours of water fun kill your dogs. Matt, Justin and I decided that we'll make our own America's Largest Waterpark with water sidewalks and elaborate watercoasters built into sides of old ski mountains that feed into other watercoasters and take twenty minutes to finish. Now that would make Kenya quake.

Since they don't sell beer at the Pick-n-Save past 9PM, we decided we'd pick up some on the way home from Noah's. Matt and I drove in Joe's car and were listening to the excellent Cubs-BoSox game when we passed my favorite Dells site of my youth, the Wonder Spot, which sounds like a porno, and we tried to get Eric's car to turn around and go. No dice.

Joe had to get gas and a Red Bull because water fun takes the life outta you, and we stopped at some gas exit and went to the gas station that had the giant pink elephant wearing glasses in its yard. We were vexed. The attendant told us it had to do with either hangovers or LSD, but we thought he didn't want to come across as pro-LSD by saying it definitively. It was fucking weird.

Then we saw a guy do a wheelie on his motorcycle for a really long time. It was stupid, but awesome.

Saturday night we grilled brats for fifty minutes, fed a swan that came up to the pier and built a kickass bonfire in the fire pit.

Sunday morning we played nine holes at the Coachman's Inn in nearby Edgerton (the sign said it had a population of 13, but I saw at least 28 houses about a hundred yards in). I haven't played since high school, so I sucked. But I had one great hole, the seventh, where I scored a threesome-best of... 7. I don't take it seriously, aside from the angry yell of "Shit!" after I take a very poor shot, so it was a great time, even if I was embarrasingly terrible.

After the links, everyone split up and made their way back from whence they came. It was a great weekend, and I was happy to provide the lakehouse and glad to be a part of it all. I only wish I wasn't dogged by this bullshit cold. I read online that if you put hydrogen peroxide in each ear for a minute or so, it'll cure your cold (or flu) in twelve hours. But instead it just made me half-deaf in my left ear. And it didn't cure my cold. But my worst days were Thursday and Friday morning, so at least I wasn't hacking and bleeding snot from my face all weekend. That's a pretty picture.

Matt and I went back to the lakehouse to complete the checklist my aunt gave to me. Before we left, everyone pitched in, unasked, and put everything back together. Someone even thought to take out the bathroom garbage, which was shocking to me. Completely considerate, and that's something you don't find too often these days. So thanks, to Eric and his friends, for thinking ahead.

I haven't known Eric for a very long time, but I think he got the type of weekend he really wanted, and that's really what the whole point was. Rocknroll.