Today I'm skipping ahead 2years because I had told a friend about it this weekend.
It was New Years Eve, 2010. It was the first NYE party we held at our house. We're not strangers to having parties or drinking. We're used to that. Fiance, Roomie, and myself had all been cleaning for 2days. But we didn't Krazy proof it. I had no clue that I had to.
I don't remember what all we were doing to the house but apparently de-bachelorizing was high on my priority. I don't knwo, I don't try to figure Me out. It's confusing in this cluttered head. But apparently Roomie's round table and chairs took up too much room. I had been wanting my table in the house for a long time, I just needed to find chairs. My table is an antique, old skool square table that my funky G~ma bought and refinished for me. My table has 2 leafs, but you have to lift the top entire off to pull the leafs out. I freaking LOVE my table. Fiance found some chairs that are slightly darker than the table (my fault though, oops!) and we brought them home. It was in the house for about 2months before this party. I kept placemats on the table because liquids leave a stain in the finish. People knew I loved my table.
So back to the party. It's well under way, but nowhere near midnight (meaning people were still fairly sober). Bonehead and Krazy came over before having to go to next party. That's fine by me since there's so many people over. I was fiddle-fartin around the kitchen and Krazy was at the table with few people. I couldn't get a pickle jar open so I was going to the living room where some guys were. If they couldn't open it, then we just wouldn't have pickles. Krazy said she could open it. I looked at her questionably because she's got about the same arm strength as me. Not that much. I handed her the jar in case she knew something I hadn't just tried. She took the jar and started smacking the top on my table. I was shocked. Eyes wide, mouth open, frozen. After the 2nd or 3rd try I took the jar and told her the guys will open it. Not sure when but shortly after, she asked if I was upset. I told her she had just left dents in my antique table. She apologized but this girl hasn't ever said a sincere apology in our house, ever. I tried to remain calm while I quickly finished in the kitchen. Then I went outside to Fiance to vent off some anger before I got really upset.
I've seen this "technique" done before. My family has done it at one point or another. But we've done it on surfaces that are known to withstand it, and we don't hit that hard. Typically, wood just isn't a great surface to hit stuff. And not at someone else's house without permission. The table is now always covered by placemats and various items now. We put a beeswax coat on it so the dents are protected, but I still know. My poor table.