At the Hop

This weekend I was all excited about going to Oyster Fest, in Harrisburg. I was imagining a big party, music, people, excitement.

Here is a picture of Oyster Fest:

Oyster Fest '06 . . . not an oyster in sight

As you can see, there were people and music, but really it wasn't all that exciting. Except for the drunk woman dancing in the middle of the street. That was hilarious. I don't have a picture.

The most fun came afterward, when we took a wrong turn getting home and ended up in York. The girls I was with went to college in York, so they had all kinds of ideas for things to do. We were especially excited about the old people dance club. They had never actually been there, so we were envisioning REALLY old people, tottering around on the dance floor to the hits of the 50s. We randomly stole a bunch of balloons from the parking lot (or they did, I'm too chicken to do such things), hid them under a jacket in the back of the car, and went in all loaded with irony.

Sadly it wasn't an old persons' dance club, although there were quite a few 50-somethings. It was more of a Central PA hick bar, with fun dancing, mullets (even cowboy mullets!), and a platinum-haired guy with a platinum mustache who line-danced like nothing we'd ever seen before. This picture doesn't do it justice at all, but that's him in the red shirt.

Cause I'm a redneck woman . . .

And all of this excitement was enjoyed completely sober. Notice me looking like a freak here . . . I'm trying not to blink and ruin the picture (I'd already ruined three).

Deer in the headlights . . . with friends