**** Note: If you are easily offended in the slightest or even if you tend to be pretty well seasoned to men and their crassness please have this serve as WARNING that offense may very well be taken by the following definition of a "double bagger". Read at your own risk!*****
What in the hell a "double bagger"?....You really don't want to know!! It is a slang term that I picked up during my teenage redneck years. I am not particularly proud that it remains in my vocabulary (though I try to stickily limit its use outside of my internal monologue.) The term was developed by men (are you surprised?) to describe woman that have a great body and plenty of "assets" but who were not blessed with a pretty face. A woman like this would be a called a "single bagger" because you would have to put a paper bag over her face to.... well you get the point. A "double bagger" on the other hand describes a woman with a face so hideous that you had better "double bag-her", just in case the first one rips. Nice, eh? On with my story....
The rest of the men where reasonably attractive and all but one where gentlemen. They were funny, easy going and full of fun. We did not buy a single drink the entire week...but that is not to say that I did not earn them a drink or two.....
Ash and I made the long drive to Edmonton (or was it Calgary?) to go to the infamous Cowboys Nightclub. We were about an hour or two into our drive there when I realized that I had forgotten my wallet! Only I could get myself in to this situation! I was finally able to legally enter a bar but didnt have the I.D. to prove it! Ash was not particularly happy with me as I tend to be horribly forgetful, which had been known to cause all sorts of inconveniences. Having come so far we decided that it was at least worth trying to sneak me in rather than turn around.
As we stood in line to get inside, and with every step closer to the bouncers, I felt my nerves build. Two burly men wearing black T-Shirts with "Cowboys" written across the front were waiting for us when we finally made it to the door. Both had a skeptical look on their face. My voice quivering, I explained that I was actually eighteen but that I had forgotten my license! He eyed us up for a moment and then asked,
"Do you think you look as old as Queen Elizabeth?"
I stared at him blankly.
"What!!?", I said, in a oblivious tone.
"Get out of here, both of you!" He grumbled and turned to the next person in line.
Ash shot me a annoyed look. We started to walk back towards the car, heads hanging low when a man ran up behind us and touched my shoulder.
"Hey, thought you might like to know that the bouncer was asking you for a $20 to slip you in..." Noticing our blank looks he added, "Queen Elizabeth would be the face on a twenty dollar bill!"
I could have hugged him. Grabbing a twenty from Ash, we got back in line. As we approached the bouncers again I gave him the cutest smile I could muster, batted my eye lashes a few times and said, "I am way hotter than ol'Liz! and slipped him the twenty. He could only grin as we walked inside.
We were both pretty jacked up about the whole thing and were quick to tell our story to the firemen when we found them hunkered (no pun intended) around a table in the corner. Their laughter helped to break the tension between Ash and I. The club was dark and busy, with flashy lights and loud music. A large crowd filled the dance floor and everyone seemed to be dancing in singles to the techno version of a hot new song. Ash grabbed my arm and pulled me into the middle of the dance floor. I felt the music start to pump through me as my body bobbed with the beat. My mind went blank as I let the last thread of tension fall away. My hips were swaying back and forth and my arms waved in the air. My hair bounced around my face as I looked over at Ash, a few feet away, and noticed that she too seemed to have let go. She looked over at me with a smile and nodded her head, as if to say, "lets have some fun!"
A new song started, faster than before, the energy around me picked up and surged through my body. More people began to stream on to the dance floor. I felt like I had been swallowed up whole. Allowing the beat to carry me, I moved off to a section with a bit more elbow room. As I stepped clear of the crowd, I felt my shoe slide on something slippery. I went to step back but my momentum had already pitched me forward. I tried but failed to find purchase on the slick but sticky surface. As I slid to the floor I reached out to break my fall but my hand found nothing but a greasy gooey mess and sharp shards of glass. The cement floor and my tail bone collided, causing my jaw to clamp shut on my tongue. Exasperated, I sat for a moment in a pool of spilled beer and broken bottles, wondering at my own clumsiness. How could I have fallen flat on my ass, in the middle of a dance floor, twice in the span of three days? I felt a sharp stinging sensation in my forearm and glanced down to find a three inch portion of a amber brown beer bottle jutting out of my smooth and pale skin. Blood pooled into my hand and covered the front of my shirt. Before I could catch my breathe, I felt hands pulling me to my feet and escorting me off the dance floor.
Slightly stunned, and still bleeding profusely, I was whisked into the managers office and given a towel in which to wrap my arm. Ash stood next to me, speechless. I was too caught up in myself to notice how agitated and nervous the manager was. He asked if I wanted to see a doctor or if I wanted to "go back with my friends and enjoy the party?" He reached into his desk drawer and withdrew a stack of twenty or so small cards, handing them to Ash. We headed out of his office with a bandage in hand and enough free drink tickets to last all of eight of us the night. I had been paid off. I had also agreed to be the designated driver. I was in for a long night.