The Lips Definitely Have It...

“Hey, wanna go to a Crosby, Stills and Nash concert at the end of September?” Lucille asks me. She’s always trying to find fun things for us to do, kind of like a social director.

 
“Are they still alive?” It was 2004 and I was 39 and I hadn’t heard anything about them since I was…14, I think? And, then again, it could be my memory. I AM 39.

 Connie rolls her eyes. Sometimes I wonder how she puts up with me. She is so wise and wordly having spent three years in India and leaving the comforts of America. Still, she laughs at my jokes so she must not think I’m that bad/weird/shallow.

 “Oh, you dork. Yes, they are still alive and they are playing live at the St. Michelle Winery in Woodinville. We could leave early from work, drive over there. Who knows? Maybe we want to stay in a hotel over there so we don’t have to drive home?”

 

These two women are my best friends. Lucille, otherwise known as “Lucille” is about 6 feet tall with a presence twice that. She is smart and quick-witted and uses her vocabulary to slay all dragons. Seriously, getting in a verbal war with her is like running off to Iraq without sunscreen. You just don’t do it. Lucille is honest (painfully so) and is one of the most caring and loving friends a girl could have. Lucille is the one I turn to when I need my thoughts and feelings aligned, when I’m confused. She’s not afraid to set me straight.

 

Connie, otherwise known as Con, is ummmm…older than me and is a Buddhist. She wasn’t born a Buddhist but became one on one of her several visits to India. She is so wise and listens with all of her heart and, yet, loves to buy shoes with gusto! She has the wisdom of an old soul and the playfulness of a 12 year old. She is the one I turn to when I am just simply confused or in pain or I want something made especially clear. Con has this amazing ability to feel what you are going through with no judgment. She doesn’t try to change your feelings and has you feeling like you are so okay for having those feelings, right or wrong.

Back to the concert.

“Did you get the day off?” I ask. Always first on the list to take time off, I wanted this question covered first.

“No, I need to be there for part of the day but we can leave early.” Lucille, always working.

“Can you buy songs from these guys still? Do you think they’ll perform in wheel chairs? Will there be pot there?” Unfortunately, I am not old enough to have been a part of Woodstock and always really wanted to. You know, free love and all.

 “Let’s leave a little early so that we can go get some dinner and drinks before the concert. What places do you know around that area?” I’ll never go hungry, but there is always the threat of being parched. Serious threat.

“There’s a Red Hook Brewery right across the street. I’m sure they have what we need. But I couldn’t find a place for us to stay. Woodinville has, like, one hotel and then the next one was quite a ways away, so let’s just drive home.”

The MAC Counter

Con tells us that before any girl goes to a concert, she must go to the make-up counter. The MAC counter, to be precise. She was on the hunt for a lipstick that would not fade. Her daughter, Beth, told her this item of beauty was a must have. So, we must have.

Can you imagine being 22, a size 2, gorgeous, not-so-quick with humor and the three of us arrive at your counter? Well, the sales girl did a fantastic job. She steered us right to the lipstick of our dreams. On one end, was a “stain” that you applied to your lips and then you held them open and still for a few minutes or until it dried. The other end held a “lacquer” that you painted over the stain to keep the lips moist. So, apply we did! And, I must say the lips looked great.

On to the Brewery/Winery. Yes, not only does the Red Hook Brewery serve beer, they serve wine and food! Oh, happy day! Order up. One glass of wine. One pitcher of beer. One glass of wine. Another glass of wine. One pitcher of beer. Check, please!

There is nothing like the Two Glass of Wine Buzz. Nothing. And, if you were counting, you know that I have had three glasses, so the buzz is buzzing!

Lucille and Con drop off their purses at Lucille’s car and we pick up the blankets and coats. It’s been raining all day, which is unusual for September. So, not only is it wet but it’s cold, too. We have chairs to sit and blankets for warmth. And a buzz. Life is good.

Crossing the street to the Winery, Con looks over at me and says to Lucille, “Oh, look at the Barbie here taking her purse into a concert.” What? I’m not supposed to take a purse into a concert? How will I reapply my lipstick? Oh, that’s right. I am wearing the Mac Long-Lasting lipstick. No need to re-apply. Oh, well.

 Crosby, Stills and Who?

We find our spot, set up our chairs and blankets and notice that people are walking around with wine bottles. Who knew that you could buy WINE at a WINERY? So, we buy one. Hey, they even uncork it for you. Okay, the cups are plastic and regular drinking cups…hmmm…no time for snobbery. We have a concert to experience!

Much to my surprise I know some of the songs. And their voices are great. We talk through the whole concert, like girls do, and much to the irritation of the people in front of us who keep turning around to give us the “look.”

 Another bottle of wine? Sure! I have to get up and use the bathroom anyway.

Oh, look, hot guy to the left. And to the right! Being single is so fun! Men are simply everywhere. Most of them attached, but it still feels great to get those appreciative looks. I NEVER got those when I was married. Now, it’s like collecting beanie babies…gotta have them, will even pay for them…some day they might be worth something.

After the 2^nd bottle of wine, Lucille and Con think we need another one so they leave me on the blanket, by myself, shall we say…beyond buzzed.

Concert over. Where are they? They’ve been gone awhile. I’m the only one there with no one around me. Standing, I look around for those two. Turning to my left, nope not there. Turning to my right…and like slow motion…I see him. Coming right towards me dressed in full purpose. Wearing a bright yellow rain coat. (Oh, is it raining?) With a hat? A hat? Would that be a SHERRIFF”s hat? He is kinda cute…and who is that right behind his left shoulder?

Oh, there they are. You might be able to call that “walking.”

What happens next happens in a matter of about three seconds. Let’s see if I can replay it for you in all of its hilarity.

Lucille and Connie are “walking” down the hill coming toward me. Remember, they are behind the cop.

The cop asks, “Ma’am (MA’AM????), how are you getting home?”

At that exact moment I see out of the corner of my eye Connie trip on an empty wine bottle and fall face first into the wet grass. Lucille, ever the caring friend, is immediately on her knees helping Con to her feet.

Not wanting the cop to see my friends in all of their glory and to keep his attention on me, I do what I do best:  Flirt.

“So, are you married?” Distraction therapy, I think it’s called.

“Ma’am, I asked you a question. How are you getting home?”

Connie, with grass on her face and Lucille, all 6 feet of her, is now a mixture of anger (at me for flirting with the cop. In her words, “At a time like this???”) and protection (“What do you want with her? She hasn’t done anything to you.”) and exasperation at Con because she can’t seem to regain her balance.

So, charging down the hill to speak to the cop and tell him what’s what, she learns that we will not be driving home and that the cop is going to walk us to an awaiting taxi.

“You have GOT to be kidding me. You are not going to let me drive home? Why not? You don’t know me. On what grounds? What are we going to do with my car? Oh, we’ll just see about that.” Then to me, “Suzie, I cannot believe you were trying to pick up that cop. Cops are no fun. They have too many rules. We’ve talked about this.”

I climb into the taxi and the nice policeman says to the taxi driver, “Please take them to the ferry so they can get to the other side of the water and have someone pick them up.” The taxi driver begins to drive us out of the winery.

I ask, “Can you just drive us to our car?” He tells us that he can drive us anywhere so where is the car? Ha! We fooled that cop! That’ll teach him. Don’t mess with us. You need to wake up early, son, to get a step ahead of us.

We pay the taxi driver with my money since I am the only one with a purse (remember the conversation about calling me a “Barbie”). And, proceed to get into the car.

Only, guess what?? Lucille has no keys. They are in her coat pocket and, where is her coat? Not on her body!! Oh, no. It’s at the Winery on the ground right where she left it when she was going after the cop. “Hold it!” we scream to the taxi driver. Again, I am the only one with money. The Barbie.  Let’s be really clear on that point. “Please take me back to the Winery so I can look for my coat!”

Con and I sit and wait. And wait. And wait. Finally, Lucille comes back in the taxi. “Someone stole my coat with my keys in it! I couldn’t find it.”

This error on Lucille’s part probably saved our lives. Because Lucille did not have her coat with her keys, she could not drive us the three hours it would take us to get home. What to do? What to do?

Barbie to the rescue.

“Can you take us to the Seattle Ferry?” He probably thinks we are Cuckoo for Cocoa Puffs^® by this time, but he tells us to get in.

Meanwhile, Lucille calls her husband Jim (who has been working 12 hour days and is still at work) to pick us up on the other side of the ferry.

Luckily for us, we were going to catch the last ferry leaving West Seattle to bring us home to Port Orchard, where Lucille lives.

“”I just cannot believe I left my coat at the Winery. I’mgoingtohavetocallthemtomorrow. (This is said in the same way all drunk people talk while trying to focus on the face of the person they are speaking to.) Lucille and Con get out of the taxi and high-tail it over to the side where they need to smoke because they are stressed.

I finish paying the taxi driver (Right.) and go to get out. He tells me not to forget all of our stuff. All of our stuff? I looked up to see Con and Lucille smoking, like two Cruella Devilles, they could not get enough drags out of their cigarettes, both of them all spun up about the lost keys and the cop that ruined our night.

I grab my coat, the two blankets, the three chairs and my purse and walk toward the Cruellas, who are about 100 yards away. These things are heavy, though, so they seem like miles away.

The ferry worker begins to yell to us to hurry up. They are ready to pull away. I’m going to have to run with all of this stuff? How’d I get to be THIS person? I was always the Princess. And where did I lose my wine buzz?

I take off running and run right on by the Cruellas, who are looking at me very confused. “You guys better start running or we are going to miss this ferry!” Furiously smoking their last few puffs, they take off running, too.

Heading Home

Whoooo! We made it literally with the ferry pulling away as our feet hit the ferry.  

Back at Lucille’s house where we are all spending the night, I head to the bathroom. Are those my lips I see in the bathroom mirror? They are perfect—the perfect shape (outlined by the little Mac girl), and the perfect color (hasn’t been reapplied since it was originally done around 3 pm that afternoon. It was now 1 am, so that means it’s still on after eight hours three glasses of wine and three bottles of wine. Now, that’s a testimonial.).

Lucille’s boys are up and moving at about 5 am and are getting ready for school and work. (Yes, that means three hour of sleep.) I can’t even imagine what they were thinking when they woke up and saw Connie sleeping on the couch downstairs and then me sleeping on the couch upstairs, both of us looking fabulous with our mascara smudged halfway down our cheeks but the MAC Long-Wearing lipstick perfectly applied and still looking fabulous.