It was supposed to be a nineties party.  I was looking forward to dancing to NSync, rocking my scrunchie and body glitter, and using a beanie baby as a socially acceptable accessory. It didn’t quite turn out how I anticipated.

Andy and I were visiting friends in Detroit for New Year’s Eve.  They suggested this party at a local social hall.  I didn’t even know social halls were still a thing, and I was picturing the 1950’s dance halls where people are all, “May I have this dance?” and then they sock hop and drink fizzies.  Except it was a nineties party, so I amended my view to replace Elvis with Britney and replaced the poodle skirts with polyester windbreakers.

My friends and I got pretty dressed up for this.  I had a high pony tail on top of my head, denim like whoa, and a dog beanie baby peeking out of my wallet.  Andy wore a windbreaker jacket and a backwards baseball cap.  We were ready to party like it was 1999.

WELL.  When we walked in, I saw men in tuxedos and realized, “Okay, this is not what I was expecting.”  We’d already paid the cover to get in, so it wasn’t like we were going to leave.  We couldn’t go, but we looked ridiculous staying.  Lots of the guys were super dressed up, and many of the girls were…not wearing much.  Honestly.  I’ve been in Victoria’s Secret dressing rooms where people had more on.  Lest you think I’m simply a girl who’s never been to a real party, let’s please take a moment to remember that I LIVED IN LAS VEGAS.  I have seen my fair share of sexy.  At one point I saw a girl, turned to my friend, and said, “I literally don’t understand the physics of that top.  How are her boobs staying in the fabric?”  It was low cut, wide cut, all the cut.  I have to believe her boobs made a break for freedom by the end of the night, but if they did then I missed it.

Let’s review: I was wearing “denim like whoa,” a sky high ponytail, and my husband was in a windbreaker and a baseball cap.  Our friends were dressed like us.  The four of us stuck out like the Fresh Prince when he got to Bel Air.  I guess it wasn’t a dress-up party.

Also, there was no dancing.  NONE.  We stood there awkwardly for a minute before my friend said, “Oh my gosh you guys, I am so sorry…should we leave?  We look ridiculous.”  The thing is that I am very cheap, so I didn’t want to leave when we’d already paid.  I said, “No way!  This is cool. We’ll rock these outfits and…um…find something to do.”

The star of the night was Pugsley the beanie baby, who gave us lots of photo ops and took us on an adventure.  Now I get to share that adventure with you.  Happy New Year, y’all.

This is how it all started.  I put Pugsley on a railing and said, “Look, Pugsley’s having a great time.  He hasn’t been out in decades.”  Then we decided to let him really live it up.

This is Pugsley waiting outside of a bathroom.  Despite the writing on the wall behind him, he got no action.  Bummer.

This is Pugsley being the ref for our table hockey game.  For the record, Andy and I won.  We did have the ref (literally) in our back pocket, so that might have helped.

This is Pugsley keeping guard in a creepy stairwell so that we didn’t run into any rapists or serial killers.  That would have been a sucky way to start the new year.

In this bathroom, I said to the girl on the right, “Oh my word, I love your top.  Is it a bra or a shirt?”  Because I honestly could not tell.  Her jacket is covering it up in this picture.  The funniest part was when she responded, “I have no idea…it could really be either one.  I just thought, ‘this is cute!  I’m wearing it!'”  Pugsley had to get a picture with them.  The girls are now major Pugsley fans.

We decided to head downtown to watch the ball drop.  Pugsley hailed us a cab.

It was almost midnight, so we had to hurry up.

Pugsley finally found something from the nineties! Time to party like we’re installing this storm drain…

Downtown, Pugsley fell in with a rough crowd and picked up a bad habit…  Don’t worry, he swears 2017 will be the year he quits.

He found his way back to us and perched on Andy’s shoulder to watch the ball drop.  Happy New Year!

When we got back to the apartment, Pugsley told his friends all about his adventure (the friends were going to go with my friends but got left behind).  The dog was clearly appalled – look at his face! – but I think the sheep has been around the block once or twice.  He looks bored.  I guess maybe he’ll show us how to party next year.