99 Bottles of Beer on the Wall
All this snow recently reminded me of the time several years ago when I read an ad for the local ski store. They were sponsoring a Friday night ski trip up to one of the northern Massachusetts ski areas.
My bud, Marc and I decided that bus trip would be a great way to meet single women. So we reserved a couple of seats on the bus which would depart at 5:30 Friday night.
We arrived early at the departure location and were one of the first people on the bus. This, I figured, would give us a chance to check out the women as they boarded the bus.
Finally, a mini van pulled up and a couple of 9th graders got out and boarded the bus. I began to get concerned as car after car pulled up and middle school kids boarded the bus.
Yep! It was a middle school event and I guess the parents thought we were chaperones. One parent stood at the front of the bus and said, “You will all behave or we’ll pull over on I91 and call your parents.”
That was bad enough but when the kids started singing 99 Bottles of Beer on the Wall, it came intolerable.
All the way up and all the way back it was 99 Bottles. Marc and I had a choice. We could either join in the festivities or crack open the wine and cheese we had bought. We chose the latter.
By the time we got back to the parking lot the parents were waiting to pick up their kids. They kept coming up to us and asking if the kids were well-behaved. Several of them were concerned when they smelled the alcohol and heard the slurred speech of us. Later, I heard that several complained to the ski shop about the drunken chaperones.
There was never another ski trip sponsored by that ski shop.
I do recall bus trips singing 99 Bottles of Beer on the Wall. It seemed like it got old pretty fast after about 10 bottles when no one wanted to sing it anymore. But for middle school kids who only got a sip of their parents beer like I did when I was about five or six and decided I didn't like it, they could go on for nearly forever with all that energy pent up in a moving bus.
Ron