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"Are you sure your phone is charged?" Her husband asked from the kitchen as Katy double checked that everything she needed was in her purse, though once they got down to South Street her purse would probably wind up in the trunk anyway.
"Yes, Daddy," she joked, joining him in the kitchen and giving him a peck on the cheek.
"I know you can take care of yourself, hon. It's your friends I don't entirely trust. I don't mind coming out to get you guys if Mo doesn't keep sober." Mo was Maureen Kelly, one of Katy's oldest friends and the evening's designated driver.
"Stop it, because you really are sounding like my father now, except without the drunken temper. Mo knows she's driving and I will keep an eye on her to make sure she doesn't drink. We were down there the year everything went crazy and we got out of there completely fine." She was referring to Fat Tuesday four years ago when everything on South Street got out of control and just about every cop in the city had to be called in to control the drunken mob. A bunch of guys had helped Katy and her friends onto the roof of a minivan to stay safe until the crowd passed them by. Yet another example of where being an attractive woman was helpful, Katy thought. She knew she was no
Playboy
centerfold, but Katy turned heads when she dressed up to go out. At 5'7" and thirty-two-years-old Katy still had a nice, curvy body, though she didn't do anything to maintain it. She'd just lucked out in the genetics crapshoot was all. Her shoulder-length hair was naturally auburn, but Katy kept it a couple shades redder than nature intended with the help of Miss Clairol.
There was a honk from the driveway, cutting off any further protest from her husband and Katy, laughing, told him not to wait up as she headed for the door. She slipped into the back of the minivan beside Angie and the women were off for the night. The wine was already open and Katy was passed a full plastic glass. Heading out for a night of partying with her three best friends made Katy feel like she was right back in high school. Besides Mo and Angie, Patty was there as well, sitting in the front passenger seat.
"So are you girls ready for a night of no responsibility? No husbands, no kids, no work tomorrow morning. Just the four of us, some booze and hopefully some cute guys to flirt with." Patty said, raising her glass. The other women, except for Mo who was driving, raised their glasses and drank. It was a poor choice of words with Mo present though, as her husband had left just six months before. She did her best to let the comment pass without dwelling on it. Two of the four, Mo and Patty, had kids and all of them were married.
"Here's to partying like it's 1989!" Katy chimed in, initiating another round of drinking. Of course back in '89 that wine probably would have been Boone's Hill, not Turning Leaf.
Hitting South Street on Fat Tuesday was a tradition that went back to their senior year together at St. Alban's High, when they cut class to do it. Katy and Mo had been friends since grade school and they'd met the others in junior high and been lifelong friends ever since. Whatever paths life took them down, the four made sure they stayed connected. Over the years Fat Tuesday in the city had changed a lot, going from a fun, but drunken celebration to a party big enough to rival New Orleans it's self. The scene could get so out of hand that Angie had suggested maybe they get together somewhere else this year, but the others wouldn't hear of it.
It was only half past eight when they hit South Street, but the area was thronging with people who'd been drinking since early in the day. The closest parking they could find was a garage ten blocks away and despite the brisk night Katy and Patty chose to leave their jackets in the minivan. Katy was quite chilly on the long walk as she was just wearing a see-thru black sweater with a camisole under it and an above-the-knee skirt and boots. Patty wasn't much better off as she had chosen a skirt even shorter than Katy's and a low-cut, sleeveless red top, décolletage provided by the Miracle Bra. With her pale skin and jet hair she looked like a million bucks in the outfit, but she was paying the price as she shivered all the way to the first bar they stopped in.
While Patty pushed her way up to the bar to fill their drink order the others searched fruitlessly for a table and Mo and Angie shed their coats to get more comfortable. Mo was dressed in black slacks and a green top and looked good. She'd always been more cute than sexy, what with her freckles and auburn hair, but she did have a curvy body, which some would say had improved with age. She didn't have the body she'd had at eighteen, but the extra ten pounds or so she now carried were in all the right places and she was more self conscious about her butt than she really needed to be. Angie, on the other hand, was the polar opposite of Mo and the latter had always resented that Angie could eat anything she wanted and stay thin as a pin. Angie was attractive, with classic Italian features and blonde hair, but she had no curves at all and her skirt and tight sweater just seemed to hang on her. In truth she'd always envied Mo for her big chest, even in a Miracle Bra of her own she barely managed to raise two bumps in her sweater, so that made the women even.
Angie helped Patty carry their drinks back to where the women were crowded together. The bar was so crowded that it was a constant challenge to get their drinks down without spilling them all over themselves. The people around them constantly jostled them and Katy noted that more than one guy used it as an excuse to cop a feel as he pushed past her. When they finished their round they decided to try somewhere else.
The next bar was also very packed, but at least they found a corner where they could form a circle and have a bit of breathing room. Of course there was still nowhere to sit and Angie and Mo were left holding their coats.
"Every year this gets worse. It's really becoming a zoo," Mo said with some distaste.
"But come on, it's fun!" Katy said. "I love the energy of a big crowd having a good time."
"I don't know. I think it's a little much," Mo replied.
"You're just getting old." Patty joked.
"Hey, so are you then," Angie piped up.
"It's all a state of mind, hon. You'd feel a lot better if you weren't the designated driver." Patty said.
"We can switch if you want. I'm barely buzzed, I could definitely be sober by the time we leave." Katy told her friend.
"No, it's okay. You guys are right, though. I really need to loose up. I feel like there's been a black cloud following me around for months now."
"I know it's been hard, but tonight is the perfect night to forget about all that and start fresh." Patty said.
"Okay, tonight I will just go with the flow."
"That's more like it!" Katy exclaimed and they all toasted. Mo was drinking beer, but was severely limiting herself. "And for the record, no one here is getting old!"
"Easy for you to say with a body like that," Mo kidded.
"Oh, come on!" Katy protested.
"Pu-leez, hon! Look at that ass," Patty said, and to demonstrate she smacked her friend on the behind. "I'd kill to have an ass like that."
"Not to mention your chest," Angie threw in ruefully.
"Knock it off, guys! You're making me feel like a piece of meat. This is all the magic of wardrobe and makeup. You should see me naked. Wait, scratch that!" They all broke up laughing.
After a couple rounds they left that bar and circulated through the crowds swirling on South Street. Katy wryly noted that it seemed like the crowd got younger every year, though she didn't want to admit that maybe it was just because she and her friends were getting older. Patty was right, age is all a state of mind. There did seem to be some men their age, but she could find hardly any women. More than once Katy found herself stepping around puddles of vomit by the curbs, the fragrant side effect of so much public drinking. They had a round each in a couple more bars and by the time they arrived at the fifth bar of the night, a little Irish pub a couple blocks off South Street, they were all half-smashed. Even Mo found herself buzzed despite her efforts to remain completely sober. There was breathing room there, but they still had to stand by the bar.
