Today I met my buddy CL at DQ. We were there with her son QT and her teaching buddy TB.

Once we sat down with our wonderlicious Blizzard Frozen Treats, I began to tell them the story of that particular DQ and it’s place in my heart. It all began with a guy named Butch…..

He was a buddy in our circle of friends and he was awesome. He looked like a not-so-skinny-but-not-fat-just-normal-size version of Kramer. Complete with hair. In fact, he was Kramer for Halloween. He also had a social group called the Buttafuocos that were the sworn rivals to my gang, the Corn Cob Posse…. but that is another story.

Butch had a teeny, tiny Geo Metro. It looks exactly like the subcompact car in the FreeCreditReport.com commercials. In fact, I think they used his car. The only thing good about this car: It could go through the DQ drive-through backward.

Something about that drivethrough made it possible where all other drivethroughs would fail. We would pull up, the passenger would order, and then we’d pull around to the window. The cashier would be lazily filling our cokes and as she turned to get money, she’d realize the people were all backwards. We’d keep the straightest face possible & act like we were normal. I loved it. It was great.

CL and TB were hankering for another story about Butch, so I told them about his very important job as president of our band. It was his job to tell everyone about a person’s birthday. Then, he’d call that person to the front of the band and have them play Butt Charades. (Oh come on, you knew that would fit in somewhere because of the title. Don’t act all shocked.)

What is Butt Charades? Who can play it? Is it appropriate as a party game at our next Sunday School gathering? These questions and more will soon be answered….

The birthday boy or girl would have to spell out Happy Birthday with their butt. Butch would, of course, join in. At other times, we would all take turns spelling things and trying to guess what was spelled. As a naive young girl, I just thought we were contorting ourselves in crazy ways to play a silly game. I didn’t realize the guys were just looking for a chance to watch girls’ butts.

The conversation digressed from there. I thoroughly enjoyed it.

As I walked out, I passed a guy with a bad buzz cut wearing a shirt that said “Your scent is like a drug to me.” In fancy italics. I called CL and TB to tell them to check him out. This wasn’t an “OOH! Check him out!” It was a “Ewwww! Check him out!!!” They then asked if I had seen them spell goodbye. I hadn’t, so I drove back around.

There they were. Spelling out B-Y-E. With their butts. At the DQ.

This is why we’re friends. Well, that, and I can use all of my favorite words and they don’t flinch.

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