A weekend at Bernie's...

The great thing about owning a lake house is that you get to go to the lake every week-end. All summer long at the lake, with the boats…the boats that take you to the bars…the bars that sell beer and other adult beverages for REALLY reasonable prices. It’s a good guy weekend. As a matter of fact, the only thing better than owning a lake house, is knowing someone who owns a lake house, a boat and access to a jet ski. Such was the case with me and my lake house owning friend Zebra this weekend. Throw in a couple classic cars driving by, the possibility of a well rounded bikini or three and suddenly, it’s a great weekend.

This was the first weekend of the year, before the warm weather really hits and the water’s still cold. There’s just one thing, in order to enjoy the boat, the jet ski, etc., the dock has to be put in. I volunteered under the mistaken impression that beer defeats cold and that docks are easy to put in.

Allow me to advise you, it doesn’t and they aren’t. But, if throw in:

Several chiefs and very few indians
Copious amounts of beer (Typically used by a chief suddenly become indian, its a status that rotates frequently)
A little patience (pretty much scrubbed by the beer)
A smattering of knowledge (several chiefs still on hand ready for providing instant, helpful and often undesired advice)
Direction (several chiefs still present and having plenty of spare advice handy)
Drive (instantly provided by the water temperature, locally known as “ball shrinking cold”)
A few dozen ‘cold water, tiny dick jokes’

Voilá! a dock is born. Then you get to put the boats, wave runners and other seriously cool toys in the water. Continue with beer and tiny dick jokes just because you’re guys away from the little women for a day or two and because that’s what guys do. You may want to add a few fart jokes followed by real world, ‘too much beer last night and what the hell was that thing you ate?’ example farts to keep the tiny dick and cold water jokes company. Again, because that’s what guys do. We fart while drinking beer and grade them against the other examples presented that day. Usually followed by such sage comments as “Whoooaaaa! I hope you brought another pair of pants!” or “Now that you’re done you better empty your shorts out over the side.”

The beer tastes good. The company is great. The lake is cold. At some point, you realize that this moment right now, with everyone laughing at the latest poke of someone’s masculinity, the cold water, the weekend stretching out ahead, the enthusiasm, you realize that this is a time that you’re going to remember for a while. Even the ‘D’ cell barking from a ‘AAA’ sized Chihuahua…maybe I’ll get the little dear a shock collar for Christmas.

It was a great weekend. Thanks Zebra, I had a blast.