Although most people currently believe “Black Swan” to be a reference to an on-screen sex scene between Mila Kunis and Natalie Portman, the theory actually refers to unexpected events with major consequences/impacts; hindsight is often the only rationalization for such experiences.
Upon arriving at our humble abode in East Hampton, Big As The Sky advised me the giant inflatable pool swan was, “A bit scary. She moves quickly from one end of the pool to the next. Almost like she is watching you.” I went out to the pool to check on the swan and immediately decided I’d like a picture on her. Being that she was of a giant size and appeared pretty balanced, I figured I could easily take a picture without getting wet. DDDG quickly came to assist, “I’ll hold the swan so it doesn’t tip.” Unfortunately, Big As The Sky was right. Portman the Swan was slick and, as a result, the left side of her body gave out and I went in the pool, landing abruptly on the stairs. “Pretty sure I cracked my ass,” I told DDDG. “It is much easier to get on with both knees at the same time than one leg at a time,” Good Eye Money Guy advised me. “Where were you and that advice two seconds ago?” I asked him. Later, while getting ready for the evening, I took a look at my bruised butt in the mirror – this is the most literal form of hindsight one can experience.
That night, we (12 of us) went to dinner at a posh dining establishment in East Hampton. Just for the record, the people in the Hamptons are both name- and h-droppers. Meaning, they’ll regularly mention posh places they’ve been and drop the ‘h’ if it falls at the beginning of the word. Thus, as Skiwi so eloquently stated on more than one occasion, we were in “the Amptons.” As often appens (h-dropping) with large groups at dinner, the more wine that was bought, the louder we got. Luckily, the All Access Passes and various means of money got us the proper service. After several hours of wining and dining we headed to the local bars.
Once we arrived at the bars, some of the group chose to go to the ‘finer’ establishment and others opted for the no-cover tavern. In the end, everyone (designated drivers excluded) was a bit pissed (another posh English term). Big As The Sky, who was mistaken for Jamie Lee Curtis on more than one occasion, was drinking beer with me in the tavern and every now and again we would ask other patrons, “Ave you seen my Activia?” “I really only drink when I’m with you,” she told me. “Maybe I’m a bad influence,” I replied. “Or a good one,” Big As The Sky stated. She then pointed to our nearly asleep designated driver and said, “Never drive designated.” We left the tavern and I appened upon a Party Bus. A large group of people were exiting the bus and I decided I might want a picture on the bus. After no success in receiving permission from a female Amptonite, I asked two handsome Aussies for permission. They, of course, obliged. I got on the bus and went for a short party ride – approximately one block. I must admit, it is lovely having a driver. Again, hindsight.
The next day, we decided it might be best to stay close to home for dinner and drinks; after, of course, having drinks at one of the most popular bayside bars. “What shall we wear there?” Skiwi inquired. “Most people just go there directly from the beach. So, some of them are wearing their suits under a dress or trunks with a t-shirt,” Good Eye Money Guy advised. Sleepless and I decided to wear our bikinis, tank tops, mini skirts and wellies. Once at the bar, we found several others with fine taste such as ours. Examples included the trio of sailors – complete with white pants, boat shoes, navy jacket with brass buckles, ascots and captain hats; the Groucho Marx duo – two fine young chaps donning fake Groucho Marxstaches; and the gentlemen in the matching orange haz mat coveralls.
A few drinks and several hundred dollars later, we returned to the house for barbeque, pool and karaoke. While Skiwi and DDDG prepared the meal, Sleepless and Ice Cream Man ‘took a nap.’ “I’m pretty sure they’re having sex,” Drizzler informed us. “We would never do something like that here. We don’t have our pole or our sex swing,” Skiwi told us. A few minutes later, Ice Cream Man ran out of the room and around the kitchen in nothing other than a black elephant trunk g-string. Unexpected. Major impact. And, being that it was a g-string, hindsight.