Britt's Retrocognitive Toga Party (w/ Strippers?!)
Apr 22, 2010 23:01:56 GMT -5
Post by Britt Betancourt on Apr 22, 2010 23:01:56 GMT -5
(Note: This thread is OPEN. I ran out of room to put that little detail in the subject line 
)
The Clubhouse at the lake was great for baby showers, small family reunions, and Sweet 16 birthday parties. It was a large cabin with decent furnishings and it overlooked the lake. Tonight it had been booked for Britt's toga party. Well, Retrocognitive Toga Party, but nobody but the guests needed to be privy to that very important detail.
Britt despised, no, hated that awkward period of time when the hostess anxiously awaits the arrival of her guests. She told them it would start at half-past eight, so she did not expect them until nine at the earliest. Britt caught a glimpse of the clock. The big hand was ticking closer to the four.
"I can't even remember why I'm doing this..." Britt mumbled to herself. She could not recall if it was her idea, stemming organically from her own brain, or something she lifted from another mind. Britt paced around the room to the sound of overplayed Top 40 music, barefeet light upon the cold wood floor. Her toenails were painted a shimmery gold to match the accents of her toga.
The drinks were ready, food was set out, and there were plenty of places to sit down and reminisce with others' memories. Only the guests could bring the party to life.
And the stripper. But Britt could not recall if she had booked one.
)The Clubhouse at the lake was great for baby showers, small family reunions, and Sweet 16 birthday parties. It was a large cabin with decent furnishings and it overlooked the lake. Tonight it had been booked for Britt's toga party. Well, Retrocognitive Toga Party, but nobody but the guests needed to be privy to that very important detail.
Britt despised, no, hated that awkward period of time when the hostess anxiously awaits the arrival of her guests. She told them it would start at half-past eight, so she did not expect them until nine at the earliest. Britt caught a glimpse of the clock. The big hand was ticking closer to the four.
"I can't even remember why I'm doing this..." Britt mumbled to herself. She could not recall if it was her idea, stemming organically from her own brain, or something she lifted from another mind. Britt paced around the room to the sound of overplayed Top 40 music, barefeet light upon the cold wood floor. Her toenails were painted a shimmery gold to match the accents of her toga.
The drinks were ready, food was set out, and there were plenty of places to sit down and reminisce with others' memories. Only the guests could bring the party to life.
And the stripper. But Britt could not recall if she had booked one.
