A close group of my friends quickly learned the truths of life with me: Thoughts flow freely from my mouth even before they are processed in my mind. Once I start talking, I don’t stop. I like to shock people. I am very loud and I have little to no filter.
To address this reality, they gave me some good advice: “Whatever you think, do the opposite.” But saying that out loud and actually doing that are two very different things. Come to find out, it’s very difficult to go against your own instincts, even if they are bad. So my girlfriends came up with a code word they can say in public that will let me kow I need to shut my pie hole but that won’t be completely obvious if we are in mixed company: “Hibiscus!” Almost every one of the situations in this blog that involve my friends is a Hibiscus moment. Sometimes they say it when there are not even other people around. It’s just a way to tell me I’ve gone too far.
For example, we were in a restaurant and I’m telling a story about a guy I hooked up with in college, except I’m telling everyone else around us too. (I’m kinda loud.)
“It was so hot. We were outside on the back porch, huddled together, talking. Then I lifted my shirt and he went to work sucking my tits. And then, then he reached around and touched my ass, like as in my asshol…”
Or maybe it was the moment we were in a bar, drinking, and I whipped out my boob to lick my own nipple, just because I could.
Yet another time we were at our favorite beach bar. The young male 20-ish waiter came to our picnic table and asked if we had been there before. I replied, “Of course. I flashed you last night. Don’t you remember?” (I really did.)
“Uh, can I take your order?” he replied.
“We already ordered some tuna dip and crackers,” Savannah replied.
“OK then. If you need any hot sauce, just let me know,” he said.
“Oh honey, my tuna is already hot,” I told him.
* Crickets… *
“Hibisus,” they all said. Ahem….
Not all the Hibiscus moments in my life happen spontaneously. A lot of them occur because I have made a particular choice, usually under the influence of alcohol. On a girls’ trip one year, we had rented a beautiful house with a pool a few blocks from the beach. We spent the majority of our time in the pool, beside the pool, near the pool, or dipped in the hot tub adjacent to the pool.
After one day outside, we decided we were going out to dinner, but we needed to get cleaned up first. We had been sitting in the hot tub, and no one wanted to move. I decided to get things going by being the first to shower. I got clean and had even dried my hair. I threw on a bathrobe and walked out to the kitchen to let them know I was out of the shower. Next!
When I didn’t see anyone else in the house, I went outside. My bitches were still in the hot tub. I pulled up a chair beside them and joined the conversation, sang along to the songs playing on the iPod. Meri and Ali were fake dirty dancing, grinding on each other with their hands up in the air. Savvy was giggling. And I was missing out on all the fun. Yes, I was nude, but that didn’t mean I couldn’t join the fun. So with a “What-the-hell” attitude, I threw off my robe like it was my job, walked around the hot tub to an open seat, and climbed in.
I had given my girls a full frontal view. “Hibiscus!!!”