SO, it was in the 90s, probably around ’95 or so (if anyone remembers the year, tell me in comments!). It was July 4th and all of us at Derrydown were out in the yard drinking and smoking and passing a doob. We’d probably cooked out or something before and we were all WAY into our cups!
Someone had brought fireworks, so they started firing them off. Lots of Roman candles, which I love.
We were all pretty wasted and definitely high AF, when one of the Roman candles fell over and shot right into Darbi’s porch. We all just kinda stood there, hoping nothing caught fire. Too high and drunk to really DO anything about it! (Luckily, no fire!)
Soon after that, another firework malfunctioned and shot the load horizontally into the crowd. There was much fuss, but when the smoke cleared, a neighbor who’d been holding her white poodle Tristan, was like AAAHHH!! We turned to her and that dog had a black, smoldering spot where a candle load had hit his ass. He wasn’t hurt, but it was definitely crispy.
Now. Just sit with that visual for a second. Then think about the name: Tristan.
I can’t even type this without cackling! And I hope I never meet anyone named Tristan because I just giggle every time I hear that name.
Keep in mind, we’re all high AF and here is this little POODLE named TRISTAN, with a smoking divot on his ass… ::CACKLE::
It is one of my fondest memories of Derrydown! We had a great group of people, several of whom I’m still friends with today! This post is dedicated to Darbi, who has been in CA for decades, but we have kept in touch. She’s having some medical issues and I wanted to post this little tale to give her a chuckle and to remember simpler times.
Also, remember the Table of Pain! How many Camels were smoked and cheap beers drunk there? Innumerable!
I salute Derrydown! I lived there 13 years and loved every minute of it. <3