BOLO: White Thong Panties

For those of you who have never been associated with law enforcement (i.e. arrested, paroled, etc), you probably aren't aware of what a BOLO is. BOLO stands for Be On The Lookout. In my case, I lost my panties. Somewhere in northeastern Ohio, current whereabouts unknown.

This weekend was my office's annual picnic and company party. We held it out at one of our engineer's houses for several reasons:

1. He lives in a more rural setting, so there is less of a chance that the cops will be called on us.

2. There was enough room to set up tents for people who wanted to stay overnight.

3. The neighbors don't seem to mind the screams, nudity and occasional shotgun blasts that permeate the air after too much Patron.

Seriously, our owners decked the shit out of this thing. Up north they call it a pig roast, but down south my folks call it a pig pickin'. Either way, it was a hell of a time. We had a chef who prepared all of the food except for Porky - some of the guys do it every year as a kind of tradition. There was boozing a plenty. We are a pretty small operation with about 25 employees, but with all of the families and friends, there was probably close to 80 peeps there.

We played volleyball and cornhole throughout the day - by the way cornhole is a truly awful name for a game and someone needs to come up with a new one, preferably one that does not conjure up images of giant turds laced with little yellow kernels. In the evening we played Texas Hold 'Em which we do every few months anyway, but this time we didn't ante in. Instead, each player got a rack of chips and it was winner take all with additional prizes for best bluff, best hand and so forth. I got a little bored with the game and decided to have a few more cocktails. Oh, did I forget to mention that I had a steady conversation with the Captain and some Diet Coke all day? Anyway, I know the host's daughter from a mutual friend, so we decided to have a few shots - I believe Grey Goose. *DISCLAIMER - I am not a complete twat, SuperDiva was still down south with my folks and Little Man had a sleep-over at the neighbor's house* After a while, I was fairly hooched up, so I decided that instead of letting my mouth get me in trouble, I would crawl into the backseat of my vehicle and take a wee nap - one that included donning a child's sweatshirt and covering up with a beach towel.

Eventually Mr. ADW finished playing poker and hung out for a while. After about 2 hours (yes really - 2 effing hours - seriously?) he started to wonder where I was. He looked all around and finally found me curled up in the backseat. Since I was fairly incoherent, he just decided to leave since the keys were already there on the passenger's seat. About halfway home, he apparently remembered that there was a clothing issue earlier in the day and asked me if I had removed my clothes from the running board of my truck. Uh, how about no? Shit. He didn't tell me all of this until the next day.

Flashback:

We loaned the company the use of our Big Ass Waterslide for the party. I figured that we might as well get some use out of it and it was perfect to keep the kiddies occupied whilst us adulty folks had a little fun. About halfway through the afternoon, one of the ladies I work with brought out 250 water balloons that were blown up for the kids. Yeah, not so much. I am not ashamed to say that I started the water balloon fight. Me and my mighty 5" cannons. I lobbed the first volley at one of my fellow staff members and from there it was an all out war. Water balloons were being thrown with deadly accuracy in all directions. Someone gave all of the kids about 20 cans of silly string. Pretty soon it was a slippery, slidey cesspool of neon colored chemicals and mud.

But I couldn't leave well enough alone. I targeted the vice president of our company. Yeah you heard me correctly, one of the guys responsible for my paycheck. The devil that was in me decided that it would be a hoot to try and tackle him into the pool of the waterslide. I have to mention that I am extremely competitive and this day was no exception. I grappled with a stamina and verve that would make Royce Gracie and all of his UFC counterparts proud. I grappled and clawed, pushed, pulled and all out drug this man to the edge of the pool whereby I wrapped myself around his legs like I would imagine Tommy Lee stuffs his dick in his pants every day and somehow managed to upend him into the pool. Since I was already wet, I could have given a shit, but he wasn't. He took it all in stride though and wasn't even that pissed off when he realized he had his cell phone on his belt.

I also thought ahead, knowing how these folks like to party and brought a few extra sets of clothes. I changed in the bathroom and then tried to figure out how I could get my clothes dry enough so that they wouldn't mold in some plastic bag overnight. Being the ever resourceful genius that I am, I decided that I would just lay them out on the running board of my car and let them dry out since it was about ninety degrees that day.

Flash Forward:

The next morning the hubs reminds me that he didn't get my clothes and I was too drunk to remember to get them, so they were probably on the side of the road somewhere. We had to go back to the house to take down the water slide, so I scanned the roads the whole way there to see if I could spot my cute pink top, favorite Old Navy shorts and white thong VS panties somewhere along the side of the highway. No dice. When we got to the house, we looked around in the yard, but we couldn't find them there either.

I have now given up any hope that I will ever find my clothes, but I do have one concern. It would be just my luck that the panties flew off the side of the car on the eighty mile an hour trip home and landed on some nasty pervert's antenna. So now I have this dread that some skanky panty sniffer is going to figure out how to track me from the peaches and cream scent of my underoos and start stalking me. I mean who wouldn't? Until then, I am content in knowing that I had a good time on the first day of my vacation and I once again will live in infamy as the girl who lost her drawers at the company picnic. Oh AND I took down a man twice my size with complete disregard to both my personal safety and the dangers of no longer receiving a salary. I am one crazy ass, mean bitch. Recognize!