Halloween Cont.

     That night, another girlfriend of mine was caught with her on again off again boyfriend steaming up the backseat of a car. We lovingly called her Steamy Windows the rest of the year.

     Besides hanging out with the guys, I remember dancing arm in arm with my girlfriends chanting “Delta…Delta…Delta.” We thought that we were so funny and because the rest of the crowd was drinking, I can only assume that onlookers found us slightly amusing as well.

     Then there was a point in the night where many of my girlfriends decided to run outside of the barn and dart into the cornfield. Now, I don’t know about you, but a cornfield at night reminded me of that awful movie “The Children of the Corn.” I was terrified of that movie and of that cornfield—or any cornfield for that matter. “Hell no,” was my response.

     My girlfriends did not share my fear the cornfield and found it amusing to run through it screaming. Some of the guys decided to spice things up and chase them, which made them scream louder. Thoughts of that stupid movie started circulating inside my head.

     Suddenly, my girlfriend Jen ran up to me sobbing profusely. “Angie, Angie you have to help me, nobody will help me!”

     “What happened?” I questioned, scared to death that she was hurt.

     “I lost my keys and nobody will help me find them!” She yelled as she grabbed my arms and shook them.

     Up until that point in my life, I was inexperienced with the dealings of drunken people and unaware of the ways alcohol could affect them. So, confusion engulfed me as I watched Jen make losing keys seem like a life or death situation.

     “Okay,” I said. “Where did you have them last?”

     She pointed and sobbed, “Right over there…before I ran into the cornfield.”

     The cornfield? Are you freakin’ kidding me? Who the hell is going to find a set of car keys in a cornfield, at night?

     She was crying now harder than before saying, “You have to help me, you have to help me!”

     Man, I did not want to step foot in that cornfield, but Jen knew I was sucker for people in need. So, instead of running straight for the barn, I grabbed her arm with a roll of my eyes and reluctantly walked toward the damn cornfield.

     As we approached the edge of the corn, I held my breath and began walking into the dreaded field. She was too drunk to realize how terrified I was but my knees were knockin’ and beads of sweat were building on my forehead.

     I swear to you, we were not ten feet into that field before I stepped on her friggin’ keys. I have no idea how it happened, but it did. We found a set of keys, in a cornfield, at night; amazing. She could not stop hugging me and we bored countless people with the dramatic retelling of our unexpected fate.

     I’m not sure how time got away from us so quickly, but soon it was three a.m. and people were making their way home. As my girls and I collected ourselves, it was brought to my attention that one of our intoxicated friends was about to put himself and others at risk and drive home. But my soberness could not allow that to happen. So I took charge, and through much persistence, convinced a drunk-ass guy to hand over his keys.

     The night of the Delta Delta Delta girls had been a success. My friends and I had a great, safe time. And really, my breaking curfew stopped one intoxicated driver from contaminating the roads. That makes it all okay…right mom and dad?