If it had just been the dresses and the mustaches and the maracas, that would have been yet another night of fun. But that was just the beginning.
Next came the drunken fence-climbing to get away from the gay basher who kept, well, rattling us. Which resulted in a to-the-bone accidental stabbing by a loose metal prong on the other side of the fence that required an emergency room visit for stitches and a tetanus shot. Which coincided with a while-we-were-waiting coupling, shall we say (read the rest of this flash-fiction story here). (See the whole book here.)