A Fine Example

Heheheheh... I just got asked to help herd a group of sixth graders tomorrow at Six Flags Great America. Hey, I'm just a big kid at heart... how was I supposed to pass it up? No repeat of last night's events, I'm going to have to behave tonight. I've gotta get up too early to really get stupid.

What happened last night? Uh... the usual weekend's worth of drinking. That would be FOR THE WHOLE WEEKEND. Yeah, I've done it before, but not so much while unemployed. It's just not practical. But every now and then...

See, there is an evil bastard that lives here in Stillman. No, not me. The man is a hustler and a drunk. Okay, not really. But it's true that when he and I are in the bar together, Quarters will be played, as well as video golf and hunting. There is also a very good chance that we will either run the bar out of Amber Bock, or put a serious dent in the Miller Lite supply, if not both.

He's former Army (late Vietnam era), and so there are a lot of verbal jabs at each other's service. Personal lives are shredded, and we call each other some pretty interesting names. The guy loves to goad me into swearing, and when done at the proper times, I tend to cuss rather loudly. As in almost being tossed from MY bar, loudly.

We are fiercely competitive with each other, but it's all in good fun... we try to oudo each other's scores on the hunting game, and then leave names for the other in there. Heheheh... the machine is set up so that instead of just leaving initials, you can leave a long first and last name. If you are boring enough to do that...

I'd like to say that he started it. I walked past the machine one day, and I saw the Most Perfect Sites had been won by "Gay Joe The Marine." Since then, I've been called "Potty Mouth Joe," and some other prize winning monikers. My favorite for him was "------ Huffs Choad." Heheheheh... it was hysterical until he called his wife, a very church going type, over to see it. She asked what that was supposed to mean, and he said he didn't know, but she should ask me... I put it in. Yeah. And she used to like me.

Anyway, last night we did it up big. And loud. I think we drove some of the euchre club's members from the bar with my swearing. Well, they might have thought it was swearing. Really, what I was saying, too frequently, was "foowaaahk." That's not a swear word, is it? Choad looked over at me at one point, and he said, "Man, you're getting some nasty looks from that guy." I told him rather loudly that we were the one's who were earning the bar money... those "foowaaahkers" only buy a pop every now and then. Wasn't too long, and they were all gone. Oops.

The true extent of the damage was discovered later. Much later.

Your money will go a long way at Fritz's, as those who attended the Fritz Fest can attest to. Usually, a serious night of drinking (beer drinking) puts you about thirty to forty bucks in the hole. Not including the cash that I had spent earlier in the day, my tab ended up being almost a hundred bucks after tip. I won't tell you the total for the day...

Choad is currently in the last month of his employment, and he's looking forward to his free time over the summer. He's already told me that he can't wait to hook up with me when he's unemployed. Golfing, drinking. Uh. Fun, but not good.

I really, really need to get a job, and quick. If something remotely decent comes along, I'll be all over it like a streaming horde of chipmunks descending upon a stack of pancakes.

Posted by That 1 Guy at May 19, 2006 03:57 PM