Country Jam (aka Drunk Fest)

Last weekend I volunteered to oversee the high school cheerleaders while they were working the Country Jam. This is a huge all-day country music concert sponsored by the local country music radio station and held at the county fairgrounds.

Let's analyze what I just said: 1) country music, 2)all-day, 3)concert. Listen y'all, I know how to add and last Saturday 1+2+3= drunken rednecks.

Country Jam, 2009

Wow. I thought there were a lot of drunks when we worked the Oktoberfest a few weeks ago. The lederhosen wearing germans have nothing on the barechested, boot-wearing, CowboyHat-donning country music fans. Those folks can drink!

Oktoberfest 2009

Fortunately for the cheerleaders they worked the Lemonade Stand all day for a fundraiser. And they were slammed. They were so busy squeezing lemons, scooping sugar, and shaking drinks that they did not have enough time to go and mingle in the crowd.

While working this stand there were mainly 3 types of people that bought lemonade: 1) Those that don't drink, 2) Designated Drivers, and 3) Drunks who have somehow realized that just one more beer might not be such a good idea.

That was our main customer base until about 4 or 5 hours into our shift when we (the cheerleaders and I) were accosted by "crazy, drunken mom". Hereafter we will refer to her as "CDM". This woman appeared out of nowhere and in a drunken tirade proceeded to call each girl at the booth a different unflattering name (bitch, whore, slut, tramp, just to name a few). All while pointing her finger in each of their faces one by one. Wha? Huh? I responded in what I felt was like slow motion, leaping in front of the girls (my daughter included, did I mention that?) with arms outstretched, prepared to do battle.

I am not a confrontational person. I can be moody and a bit cuckoo at times, but I am not known to engage in screaming matches (ahem, unless it's my hubby or kids - sorry guys). But here is a little taste of what happened in front of the cheerleaders and a crowd of, oh I don't know, about 100 people give or take a few.

Me: Stop! Stop! These are just girls here. You can't talk to them that way!

CDM: Well, these girls are a bunch of bitches. And I hope you girls know that I can't stand any of you. You are all little tramps.

Me: I said Stop! I'm sorry you will have to leave. You are a grown adult and you should not be talking to children this way. Please go away so these girls can do their job. Go have another beer and enjoy the concert.

CDM: I am 47 years old and I'll do what I want. You give me a call sometime honey and I will tell you about these girls. (Apparently her daughter goes to school with all of the girls. Her daughter by the way is fine with these girls). They are sluts and bitches!

Me: If you are 47 years old you need to start acting like an adult and stop this. We are not in high school anymore and you need to start acting more mature.

Oh Snap!

CDM: (backing up about 10 feet and screaming for all to hear) You wanna come out here and say that to me bitch?

WHA??????

CDM: You come out here and we'll settle this. Let's go. Come on.

Me: I am not interested in fighting you.

CDM: You don't have the BALLS to fight me.

Me: (Pretty much in agreement with that last intelligent statement). I am not going to fight you. I am an adult and I didn't do this when I was 22 and I'm not going to do this now.

CDM: You're not WOMAN enough to fight me!

Woooow! Did she just say that?

Me: (Really ticked and a bit confused) No! I am just not TRASHY enough to fight you!!

Oh Snap! Yeah, through her drunken haze she realized she didn't like that particular little insult. I was gearing up. I was on a roll. I was gonna let her really have it!

Me: I am going to call security if you don't leave right now!

She spewed forth a few more pleasantries in our general direction and then stumbled off into the night. Wow! Did that just happen? I was shaking, and glad it was over. Did I mention that the guy grilling the food in the other half of our tent watched the entire thing. Then after she left he had the nerve to chastise me for speaking to her. I should have just ignored her. Yeah, OK, and let her stand their vomiting up insults and accusations at a group of 15 year old girls? I dont' think so!

Did I also mention that a couple of my girls threw those insults right back at her? Yeah, in the midst of trying to get her to go away, I had to hold back and try to silence a couple of the girls. Yikes! Apparently everyone (and their mothers) have already have had dealings with this mother. They knew all about her, have had experiences with her, and generally agree that she is CRAZY!!

So there you have it. My drunken redneck fest. Turns out that the rednecks were harmless, amusing drunks and that a crazy high-school mother was the one causing all of the fuss.

Unless you count the drunken 60 year old man in the Hooters t-shirt who asked me which one of the girls he could @#*!

Yeah, I think we will stick to carwashes and coupon books in the future.

(Disclaimer: The term redneck is only used with the utmost love and respect, seeing as how half my family and my best girlfriend fall into that category. Later y'all. I'm fixin to go to bed now.)