Thursday, October 12, 2006

Amusing Anecdotes

The following are random and completely unrelated stories which, upon remembrance, have been making me chuckle all day today:

The Crazy kamikaze Dragon Fly

A few months ago, I decided to grab some Burger King for dinner. A bacon double cheese burger and onion rings are quite the fantastic meal. I'm not one for fast food, but you cannot deny the occasional orgasmic bliss that is the bacon double cheese burger.

It had just rained for what couldn't be more than a minute and a half. When the midday shower passed, all that was left was a steamy, muggy, mess. Disgruntled, I get into my car and zip across town to Burger King. A rather groovy tune is playing on the radio so I sit in the car till the end. Upon completion of said song, I get out of my car, close the door, and
WHAM! I am struck crossways in the right cheek by a kamikaze dragon fly... WTF!... He then buzzes around me and the car in a curious manner, as if I'm the one at fault. NO SIR! You are the one with wings, my friend. Two fucking pair, I might add. It is YOU who are in the wrong. You have your choice of altitude, while I am stuck with my feet firmly on hard earth. I don't know what I'd do if I had two sets of wings, but I assure you hanging around a Burger King parking lot would not be on the list, and neither would ramming myself head-first into someone else's face, I might add.....

The Seinfeld Date

Years ago, I meet this chick while bartending and ask her out. With a smile, she agrees and we make plans to go to Chili's and then back to my place to watch a movie. Conspiracy Theory as a matter of fact... my first background gig. It was a topic of conversation and she was interested in seeing it, which is bonus points if you know what I mean. Man oh man, was I ever in for it...

I size people up by what they present to me, and being a bartender for oh so many years, one tends to hone this ability quite acutely. I'm not one to judge people on what they have or don't have, but the term "rich-bitch" didn't invent itself. Little did I know what I was in store for.

I pick her up in the upper middle class section of her town. I walk up to her door and wait in her "foyer" while she gets her coat. She comes down the stairs and I get this overwhelming feeling like I'm being set up or something. As if I was discussed with someone else and lost the argument before I'd even rung her doorbell. I think nothing of it, as I am prone to feeling insecure about my lack of money and have been my entire life, but her posturing was doing nothing but exacerbating the situation. So, as I'm escorting her to the passenger side of my car, she notices through the hatchback of my Trans Am, that I have a baseball bat.

"Umm, what's the bat for?", she asks nervously with a look on her face as if she's just said goodbye to whomever she had for the last time.

"Uhhh, baseball, why?", I asked with a "How dim is she" feeling about her inquiry

Now, in all fairness it was the middle of winter, but come on... let's not be retarded. I'm not stupid. I know I'm being pegged as some thug, or some runner for the mob or whatever media driven stereotype I'm being sized up as.

"Well why do you need a baseball bat in the middle of winter?"

"There are batting cages, ya know" I said charmingly

And, by the way, the baseball bat was in there for MONTHS. I'd thrown it in there one day and it just gradually became its place. So she just stared at me blankly as if she expected to wake up the next morning with a horse's head on her pillow. Either that, or it was the paisley Smurfs leaping from my ears. So, filled to the brim with comfort and ease, we get into my car and head over to Chili's.

We hit Chili's and take a small booth in the smoking section. Now I'm no longer a smoker, but at the time I was a two pack a dayer at least, and if you're a smoker, I'd like to take the time to tell you that she's the type that holds her cigarette between the tips of her index and middle fingers and the first knuckles. I find this to be snobbish, but human foibles aside, when a woman holds a cigarette in her hand while she's complaining, it's just obnoxious. But I'm getting ahead of myself.
The waitress comes over to take our orders. She orders "just a salad", which makes my left eyebrow raise so high, Cap'n Crunch would've been impressed. That is a pet peeve of mine. Never the less, the waitress looks at me and I tell her I want a cheeseburger, medium rare, with mushrooms with fries on the side. I find that if you don't order a burger medium rare, it tends to get dried out. Once your food is cooked, they put it under heat lamps until your waiter/waitress can be bothered to go get it, and I don't eat hamburgers too often, so when I do, I like to enjoy what I have. I'm appreciative like that.

But anyway, my date (whose name escapes me, so let's call her Bitchface) looks at me like I just farted and says, "You're ordering meat?"

At this point I've had just about enough of her. I look her in the face and reply, "You got a problem with meat?"

"Urgh... yeah! It's unhealthy", she snorts... AS SHE LIGHTS UP A CIGARETTE!!

"I don't know," I say sarcastically, "I've yet to see a cow light up a cigarette after taking out of her leather cigarette pack holder" while taking a mouthful of beer and furiously fighting the obvious fat joke. She wasn't fat, but I've yet to meet a woman who'll agree with me about their own weight.

At this point, the waitress looks at me as if to say "Good fuckin luck, pal". Meanwhile, Bitchface is looking at me as if I'm obligated to change my order. I don't fucking think so...

"Anything else?" the waitress asks uncomfortably.

"Not for me, but I'm sure I'll need another beer soon enough." I say with a smartass smirk

The waitress looks at Bitchface and gets only a disgusted head shake in reply. She walks off leaving me with my lovely date who wastes no time rattling off reason upon reason (mostly political, mind you) why it's wrong to eat meat. I sit in silence for what seems like an eternity, nodding my head in, what seems to her to be, agreement. She finally finishes her rant and I say nothing... not a word

Being the type of person that she is, she finally snaps and says, "Well?"

I look her dead in the face and say, "I don't care" LOL

Well I thought she was going to catch a stroke right there in the middle of Chili's. Shortly after this, the waitress comes back with our orders and must have noticed a victorious look on my face, because she gave me what appeared to be an extra happy smile, not to mention it looked like I got more fries than I was supposed to... Let's hear it for passive aggressiveness, right? And whether it was because she was rooting for me inside her head, or if she was having a scream with the rest of the employees over this entire situation, I'll never know. But I don't care. You can't embarrass me. Had I barged in on a secret conversation about my table and the lunacy I was subjected to, I'd have laughed, too.

We finish our meal, I pay the bill, and we leave. Needless to say we don't go back to my apartment. I drive her miserable ass home at damn near the speed of light, and don't even waste my time walking her to the door. She says goodbye and, in an act of blatant transparency, thanks me for dinner. "Ah-huh" I mutter, and she closes the door behind her as she walks back towards her house. I tear off into the night, leaving her and my disgust in the distance, never hearing from her again.


Post a Comment

Links to this post:

Create a Link

<< Home