As Helpless as a Kitten Up a Tree

Because there is always room for another acronym in our world, I give you all MISTY or Mistake I Slept with This Year.  It is gender and sexual orientation neutral and can be used in a broad set of instances. 

Married or otherwise entangled – MISTY

Smoking hot but spectacularly dumb – MISTY

Manipulative Kryptonite but you still take the call – MISTY

Left you broke and battered but you thought it was a good idea in the desperate hour of a last call morning – MISTY

Beer goggled error that still drinks at your bar and propositions you for another round of drunken sloppiness – MISTY

I saw my MISTY a few nights ago.  She heaved her massive boobs into my back by way of salutation – I knew she was drunk.  More than most people she does the close talking thing when she has imbibed more than is prudent.  It’s not that she has the typical impaired sense of spatial relations; MISTY just likes it that way.

We had barely dispensed with the pleasantries before she asked the bartender for another drink and declared “Refugee’s buying me that Manhattan.”

I gave the bartender a look that surely conveyed the “Like hell I am” that hung in the air like cartoon dialogue; but just in case it wasn’t clear, I followed it with “Not tonight.”

I am a man of innumerable faults, but a lack of generosity has never been among them.  However, I am not a fan being told when to extend that generosity.

After sucking down that glorious elixir, MISTY grabbed her car keys with her left hand and my ass with her right.  “You coming?”

The same cartoon clouds hung in the air and I repeated the same words in case my look was unclear – “Not tonight; and you really shouldn’t be driving.”

“I’m fine” she protested too much.

“No, you’re really not.  You shouldn’t drive, let me drive you home.”

“Hell no, I’m fine.”

If you ever need an indication that you’ve had too much, responding “hell, no” when someone offers to drive you home is a pretty good clue.  After a few more rounds of largely combative banter, MISTY agreed to let me drive her home, only to change her mind once we reached her car.  I kept trying – really not for MISTY’s sake but for the sake of everyone else on the road – but eventually decided that I had done my good turn and went back to the bar to finish my cigar.

I had barely settled back into my seat and explained to the people next to me that MISTY had changed her mind and wouldn’t let me drive, when she reentered the bar.

“You’re really not coming home with me if I won’t let you drive?”

I wanted to say “I’m not coming home with you unless hell freezes over at exactly this moment” but I opted for the path of least resistance and concurred with her assessment.

She capitulated and I left the bar for the second time that night.  And for the second time that night MISTY changed her mind once we arrived at her car door.  I gave her a version of the Roadside Sobriety Test as I recalled it from the one time I had to take it and what I remember from television.  MISTY failed spectacularly.  Yet she was unmoved in the conviction of her ability to safely navigate the streets.  I surrendered one more time with the knowledge that I had fought the good fight, had a beer and cigar waiting for me at the bar, and added one more reason to the list of why she was a Mistake I Slept with This Year.



Feel free to tell me about your MISTYs in the comments, and by the by, I will happily buy a beer for anyone who gets the reference from the title of this post.


14 Responses to As Helpless as a Kitten Up a Tree

  1. Fearless says:

    Chances are that most readers of your blog of a certain age will get the reference – you may be providing more beer than you think.

  2. Do we have to sing the actual song, or just state that we know it?
    PS- your misty sounds like a hot mess.

  3. Iron Fist says:

    A thousand violins would be an expensive proposition, if you think about it.
    So, when you come to the Bay Area, I’ll know to expect a beer?
    Or maybe when I visit my grandpa at Arlington. Hmm… I’d definitely need one then.

    As for MISTYs.. none in the last year and a half or so, but I’ve got some great stories to share. Maybe over that beer?

  4. laloca says:

    no MISTYs in my life of late, and i can’t carry a tune in a bucket… but i do know the song. it doesn’t sound like your MISTY was an evelyn draper, though, so i’d say you’re not doing too badly.

  5. lacochran says:

    Not only do I get the reference, we’re getting tickets to see the man, the myth, the legend, himself!

  6. Bethea says:

    That song always makes me feel wistful. Well, maybe not anymore…

  7. That song always make me think of Jessica Walter and Clint Eastwood. Your MISTY sounds a lot like Jessica in the movie. Hopefully, yours is not so psychotic.

  8. LiLu says:

    To 2009: The First Year I Shall Go Without a MISTY.

    Almost makes me nostalgic.

  9. damn the hooddoo but my freaking republican i mean “misty” just texted while i was reading this… i i guess i owe you one!

  10. brookem says:

    i’ve had some doozy misty’s for sure. hopefully your misty goes back into the woodwork for a long while!

  11. Julie says:

    Eh.. it happens. You should trademark that word because you know we’ve all been there.

    I like this post though, it makes me reminisce of the days I spent hiding my head in shame.

  12. Mac says:

    Long time reader, first time commenter. This post struck a note with me since I think we’ve all been there at one time or another. My MISTY is a “Married or otherwise entangled” one, and even worse, he and his wife are some of my best friends. Yea, I totally messed that one up cause not only is he my MISTY, I’m his.

  13. redhead says:

    You are a generous guy if you buy drinks for people who can name the reference. It’s an old standard, but do you like Ella or Frank singing it?

    Although MISTY reminds me of the old Clint Eastwood movie where his girlfriend tried to kill him. Great movie, especially when Clint wears those tight jeans.

    How’s this MISTY for 2009? I slept with my best friend (who is male). *headslap*

  14. […] were the words that slipped from the lips of one of my favorite women and in reference to MISTY.  OMFW and I were at the tail end of an evening that would have been among the best dates I’ve […]

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