Santa, a Cowboy and a Blond = stupid...for the IWSG

Here is my little story of my youth for the Insecure Writer's Support Group:)

Now this is a tale that leaves one wondering if it actually happened or did I smoke something really funky. 
Many moons ago, I, a fresh faced dumb ass 21 yr old, decided to meet some friends in a downtown bar/restaurant. I was just getting over a very bad case of the flu and decided that I needed to become even more sick by going out and having some fun so I left my brains at the door and decided to do just that. 

There I am at the bar/restaurant with my best friend, her then fiancee and someone else that I can no longer remember or maybe that is the hazy amount of meds, fever and alcohol that permeated my brain, liver and other vital organs, that make me not remember. Doug, the slug, my best friend's former fiancee owned his parent's home and this home was recently in a fire. Now Doug was more upset that his home-made wine in the basement  was in a bad way after said fire than he was upset by the home being in a shambles so he asked all of us to go check out his still. What was I to do? Should I be sensible and call home to get more rest? Puleassseeee! We all sauntered down the street to his shell of a home, went through the yellow tape (yup dumb kid with matches) and went down to the basement to have a taste of his new wine that incurred a smoky palette. Of course, going down rickety stairs  and being under a floor that could possibly give way at any moment was not in our thoughts but rather having a taste of said smoky wine seemed more on our minds. From my state of altered consciousness, I decided the wine was still salvageable and was quite good. Now I was 21, sick, dizzy (see above meds and alcohol) and thought Spumante Bambino was the best wine ever. 

After having said smoky wine and believing we were all going to be the next young adults offered to go to Mensa, my best friend and the man with no name left to go home ( they still had some brain cells lurking in their heads). Doug the Slug and I decided to get back to St. Catharines. How???  We knew better than to drive so we decided to hitchhike. Yup that stupid crazy thing I swore I would never ever do.....well I did with Doug the Slug who weighed in at 55 lbs when wet and had a voice so high it could shatter glass and make Boy George's heart go pitter-patter. So we we started walking...and walking...and walking. Nobody had the sense to pick us up at 1am. I wonder why? Doug the Slug just happened to have his Santa Claus suit on him in his duffel bag and thought nobody will decline Santa Claus. He was wrong! Santa and the dumb ass blond still kept walking. So there I was with a skinny drunken Santa at 2am at a lonely intersection in the middle of no-where-ville and Friday the 13th when a big semi-truck pulls over. Doug..er, Santa opens the door first to see a man saying he will take us. We get in and now it gets more interesting.....

This trucker looks like he would walk like John Wayne, talk like Clint Eastwood, smoke like the Marlboro man but loved to listen to Conway Twitty in French! Yup It was a cowboy trucker from Quebec! He had a big hat on with a cig. hanging from his mouth talking in a Quebequer accent while listening to country twang. He felt sorry for us and brought us all the way to St. Catharines. I finally was home around 3am or so.I was happy that no roof caved in, no Quebec Cowboy turning into Jason, and my flu no worse for wear. 

A couple of weeks later my boyfriend was talking with his friend and his friend mentioned how his dad said, one night after leaving the legion he had seen Santa and some blond hitch-hiking on the road. My boyfriend's friend didn't believe his dad. I naturally said "Oh no that was me". My boyfriend laughed and fell off his chair and his friend just figured of all people it would be me. 

This is lengthy, but hope you liked to read it even if the grammar is not correct. Is this story true?? I shall make you wait.........Yup it is true!!! I really believe I have a guardian angel somewhere with all the things I got myself into, but I guess very few people can say they hitch-hiked with Santa and a Cowboy from Quebec gave them a lift:)