Home » My Baby Bump Was Assaulted By A Drunk!

My Baby Bump Was Assaulted By A Drunk!

So remember from yesterday’s uncharacteristically “thoughtful” post, we had dinner with my in-laws last weekend?

We went to church Saturday evening.  Church was hotter than hell itself.  I’m certain of it.  I CANNOT believe we picked a church without air conditioning!  I’ll NEVER make that mistake again.

It was touch and go, but we all made it out alive.  And afterwards, we walked to one of our favorite restaurants in Canton Square: Mama’s on the Half Shell.

This is the sort of establishment, my Father would have referred to as “the scene of the crime.”  Before our days were spent folding diapers, keeping track of wubbies, and reciting the same stupid children’s literature from memory, my Husband and I spent many enjoyable hours at Mama’s on the Half.

Early Friday afternoons – when the place was nearly empty. . .St. Patrick’s Day. . .Thursday nights with friends. . .Late night Saturday nights – when the place was so full people were nearly spilling into the street.  The Orange Crushes are always icy cold.  The raw oysters perfection.   The crowd friendly.

But those routinely beer-buzzed days are long behind us. . .So this time, we found ourselves at an outdoor table that would accommodate our stroller and our potentially messy and disruptive two-year old.

The outdoor seating is great, but you really don’t get the entire experience that way.  Of course, I wasn’t getting the full experience regardless, given that slurping booze and raw oysters while seven months pregnant is frowned upon by most medical professionals and ugh most of society.

Towards the end of the meal, I wandered inside to visit the ladie’s room.  I entered the bar area from the side door.  I surveyed the scene.  It was exactly as I remembered it:  full of happy folks eating and drinking, college football on TV. . .Ahhhh.   I inhaled sucking up the pleasurable ambiance.

The bathroom is just a few steps from the side door and it too was exactly as I remember – although at this early point in the evening – much cleaner.

As I made my way back out, I encountered two attractive women, perhaps 10 or 15 years older than me, entering the restroom. The petite blonde one took one look at my belly and started screaming in a sing-songy voice “It’s only just begun!”

“Oh I hope not!” I laughed, “My due date isn’t that far away.”

The other woman joined in the chorus and promptly stumbled into a stall.

I tried to take a step closer to the door but Petite Blonde impeded my progress.  Her hands began making a circular motion, kinda’ like a less coordinated open palmed cabbage patch.  She continued her serenade.  “It’s only just begun. . .It’s only just begun.”

“I have a two-year old outside,” I laughed again, “I’m pretty sure I’m DONE.”

I took a few small steps closer to her and the door.  It’s not a big space so I was getting close to be all up on her modified cabbage patching.  What WAS she doing?  

In a split second she had my elbow in her perfectly manicured petite little hand.  “Come here!” she screamed in my ear as she hurled her teensy shoulder into the heavy bathroom door.

With a shove and a yank, we both spilled out of the ladies room. . .It felt pleasantly familiar. . .almost like old times.  Sigh.

“Hey! Hey!” she screamed after righting herself just outside the restroom door.  “Look at this!  Look!”

For a split second I worried the entire bar was going to go dead silent, aside from petite blonde’s friend who was still singing from the confines of the restroom, and turn their attention to the extremely sweaty, seven-month pregnant lady who was just forcibly removed from the loo.

Fortunately, two men at the table located just outside the restroom whipped their heads in our direction rapidly.

The man facing us, had a large hamburger or softshell crab sandwich mid-way to his mouth.  He took one look at me, froze mid bite, his jaw dropping, eyes registering a “what the hell has she done now look?”

I smiled.  For once that look wasn’t directed at my half-liquored up self.  

“Look!” Petite blonde screamed, “She’s having a BAAYYYYY-BEEEEEEEE!”

A momentary look of terror washed over the mens’ faces.

“Oh no, don’t worry, NOT RIGHT THIS MINUTE!” I too was now screaming for some reason.

“A BAYYYYYY-BEEEEEE!!  It’s only just begun.”

Cue modified cabbage patch choreography.

“It’s only just begun!  Beeeeeeee-ghuuuunnnnnn!” She shouted as she moved cabbage patching directly at me.

Before I knew it, she was cabbage-patching her hands all over my belly and I could see she was angling for some innocent girly grinding best left to the 20-something, NOT pregnant folks. . .and then only after 5 drinks and midnight. . .

I took two startled steps backward.

Old Softshell dropped his sandwich entirely.   “We see her!  It’s only JUST BEGINNING!  We get it!” he shouted.

And just like that she cabbage patched back into the ladie’s room, rejoining her friend screaming “It’s only just beeee-GHUNNNNNNNN!!!!!”

Awkward. . .

“We have no idea who the hell she is,” Softshell said staring at his plate.  “But if she offended you, we’re sorry.”

“Hey, it’s no problem,” I laughed attempting to smooth my sweaty dress over my huge belly.  “At least I AM pregnant.  She got that part right.  Imagine how uncomfortable this situation would be if I WASN’T?!”

And then I exited as fast as my swollen toes could carry me.

Another legendary night at Mama’s. . .I guess I DID get the full experience. . .

 

 

 

 

 

2 Responses to “My Baby Bump Was Assaulted By A Drunk!”

  1. Oh I hate that people think pregnant bellies are public property! But at least that was SOOO far out in left field to make for an amusing anecdote! 🙂
    The Next Step recently posted…How to Use Humor to Alleviate StressMy Profile

    • admin says:

      It’s funny it happened at that time, because just a day or two prior my Husband had asked me if anyone attempted any unauthorized touching and up to then, no one had. Fortunately, this experience cracked me up.