Unfortunately, I didn’t get to experience any turbulence on my flight to LA, as hoped. Instead, I experienced maintenance and mechanical problems which resulted in a major delay. In the pilot’s attempt to make up for these shortcomings, we had a relatively quick ride with a rough landing. Sound familiar?
Fortunately, Manila Gorilla is a patient man and was waiting for me at the airport. As we were making our way to S-Unit’s birthday party he apologized to me, “Sorry for driving like an Asian.” “What do you mean?” I asked. “Braking a lot, driving really slow,” he replied as he applied the brakes to change lanes. I cut him some slack because he waited for me at the airport and he is Asian.
Even with the Asian braking, we arrived at the club in time for me to throw on some sunglasses, wrap my scarf around my head and don my mustache. Our only concern was surprising S-Unit. The first person surprised, however, was me when the bouncer stopped me and said, “Wait a second, I need to see that you are older than 21. Show me your 22 eyes.” I pulled my glasses down just so, gave him the bouncer bat, and continued to the party room.
As we ordered drinks, I opted to stick with theme drinks and ordered a ‘Don’t Touch My Mustache.’ Apparently, this is a drink often enjoyed by Americans, stationed at air bases in Japan, who have difficulty saying ‘Do Itashimashite,’ which is Japanese for ‘You’re welcome.’ How it became a drink, I do not know, but I’ll have another doozo – that’s Japanese for ‘please,’ however, it sounds like a good drink, maybe that is how it happened.
The few people at the bar were friendly and didn’t question my accessories. The mustache wasn’t too out of the ordinary, as it was the party theme. The scarf, sunglasses and bling ring – forgot to mention that earlier, I was wearing a $ sign bling ring that I planned to give to S-Unit as a birthday present – also seemed to be kosher. A few sips into my Don’t Touch My Mustache and I realized I was not going to be drinking too much because it was virtually impossible to do so without touching my mustache. Not wanting to ruin my disguise, I grabbed a straw and sipped my drink until S-Unit arrived.
A few minutes later, I had mastered the surprise and ditched my disguise – S-Unit was totally elated and surprised. “I told you she was going to,” then Manila Gorilla made a face and finished the sentence, “in her pants.” “I’m so excited, I just can’t hide it,” S-Unit replied. “There’s a song for that,” I advised. “I know. I’m about to have a drink and I think I like it,” she replied. Ah, S-Unit, always one to make the song fit her meaning.
As S-Unit was introducing me to others in the room, she would tell them that I flew in to surprise her. “Oh that explains the burqa,” one guest replied. A few minutes later, another replied, “Hence the ‘situation,’ you had going on earlier.” I’m not entirely sure what that meant, but our reply was ‘yes.’
As the party continued, more and more guests were donning mustaches and the locations in which they were placing them were getting progressively more risque. Thus, once again, the phrase, ‘Don’t touch my mustache,” came in handy for many.