This is another good ole army story, frankly, I think I just had too much time on my hands. My friend tamara and I were driving around the quiet streets of el paso with nothing to do. So naturally, our minds started to wander. When out of the blue the best idea in the history of the world came to us, kind of at the same time, okay, well maybe not the best idea ever, but a very good one.
Me: "Let's go eat."
tam: "okay, where?"
Me: "The next place we see."
Tam: "I'm bored, let's do something stupid."
Me: "okay, Wanna pretend we're getting married?"
Tam: "What? hey maybe we'll get some free shit"
The next place we see is a Tgi friday's. We slip the ring off of her finger and into a ring box I happened to have in the truck, yeah I know it's just a little too convienent. We walk in the restaurant and as we're being escorted to our seats I take the waiter aside and tell him my plans to propose to my girlfriend and how I'm going to need to get hammered to do this. He shoots me a "Are you fucking serious" look and asks me why tgi friday's I explain to him that it's the first place we ever went out to. In true white trash fashion I remind him that I'm really nervous and am going to need to get really tanked and to keep the coors light flowing. We sit down and order our drinks and meals. By the time our meals get there I've already downed 6 beers. As I devour my meal I keep thinking of exactly how to propose, finally I decide I'll pull the waiter aside and ask him to bring it out with dessert. By the time dessert rolls around I'm three sheets to the wind. What happens next I can only explain as pure genius. Our waiter drops off dessert and the ring, Tamara looks at it a little confused, I get down on one knee and go into this long drawn out drunken proposal. I'm pretty sure it last's a good fifteen minutes, by now I've drawn the attention of most of the staff and customers. When I'm finally done with the proposal her reply was a simple "no"... WTF... What am I suppossed to do now. My first reaction was to get up flip her off while yelling "fuck you!" It was one of my finer moments. As I'm leaving, sobbing fake tears, the hostess in her perkiest little voice says "Have a great night sir"... My reply to this was "what the fuck is wrong with you do you really think I'll have a good night, the woman I love, the woman who I wanted to spend the rest of my life with just said she wouldn't marry me, do you really think I'll have a good night?!" The look on her face was priceless, a mixture of pity, shock, and horror. I leave and go out to my truck expecting tamara to pay the bill and come out in a couple of minutes. I kid you not, she was in there for another hour and a half, The hostess took it upon themselves to give her a little counseling session, while she had a few more drinks. When she finally came back out she told me that our entire meal drinks and all had been comped. I felt a little bad untill I realized it's just some stupid corporate chain, Fuck 'em they can give away a meal or two. I did go back into that same tgi friday's about a week later with another girl, I even had the same waiter. He ended up being pretty cool and we had a laugh about it all... and yes I did tip him insanely well for having to put up with all that shit.
Wednesday, May 30, 2007
Friday, May 25, 2007
basic training
I think this story is a pretty good synopsis of my life. I've gone through phases where I honestly thought the rules just don't apply to me and that I can talk my way out of anything. I found out in the army that this just isn't true. I convinced my girl friend at the time (who is now a lesbian).
SIDE NOTE I promise I'll go into that wacky relationship later.
to send me some brownies and a fifth of jack, how, may you ask, did I get these things in basic training. Well, my girlfriend at the time was a little smarter than I gave her credit for. She bought a huge box of cheap ass laundry detergent and opened the bottom of it, took out about a fourth of the detergent and put the bottle and brownies in. she then hot glued the bottom back in place and turned the box back right side up. Upon inspection it just looks like a normal box of detergent. Of course my drill sgt did inspect it and and found nothing. He questioned who the fuck would send me such a package. I just played it off as a joke. He bought it I was home free, right?... Wrong. Just like in most things in my life I forgot the little details, like remembering to lock my wall locker. A favorite past time of drill sgt's is pull on the locks of everyone's wall locker and make sure they're secure. A few of us thought we were smart and could save some time by making our locks look locked but all we had to do was pull down on the lock. (believe me every second of sleep helps). Anyway, of course my wall locker was unlocked, which was an invitaion to take everything in my wall locker and throw it about in a reckless way. When he did this he had a ball with the big ass box of detergent. When all of a sudden I hear a loud crash. Immediatly I know exactly what has happened, my poor bottle of jack is all over the floor in the bay. I'm not terribly excited. Needles to say my the rest of my night isn't a cake walk. The next day is our end of cycle testing. Which is a bunch of crap, we also get ot write a letter to our drill sgt highlighting the positive and negative points of the last 3 weeks. Again I decided to act without thinking. The gist of what my letter says is that yeah I got the shit smoked out of me but those few sips of the tasty beverage that is jack daniels was well worth it. Now let me remind you that there are suppossed to be no consequences for anything we write. Not so for me. It's taken me a long time to figure out that technicalites don't mean shit in the real world. I'm not sure how many of you are familiar with m.o.p level 4 but basically it's a charcoal chemical suit with a chemical mask and akward rubber boots and gloves. Anyway during the entire testing I had to be in mop level 4, it's hot as shit and not too easy to breath through that chemical mask. Anytime we were standing in line idle I had to be doing up downs, if you've played football you know what kind of hell that is in just pads and a helmet, imagine a charcoal suit. It wasn't fun, but as I look back on it, I have to say those few moments of bliss that I got from that bottle of jack daniels was well worth it. The funny this is after it was all said and done my favorite drill sgt. said it was the funniest shit he'd ever seen and that I was gonna be alright, and probably a lifer. He was wrong about that last part, although I do miss the army and wish I never got out... well rather kicked out for being an alchoholic. That's another story you'll read soon enough. Seriously who gets kicked out of the army for being an alchoholic every one is an alchoholic. Oh well, live and learn
SIDE NOTE I promise I'll go into that wacky relationship later.
to send me some brownies and a fifth of jack, how, may you ask, did I get these things in basic training. Well, my girlfriend at the time was a little smarter than I gave her credit for. She bought a huge box of cheap ass laundry detergent and opened the bottom of it, took out about a fourth of the detergent and put the bottle and brownies in. she then hot glued the bottom back in place and turned the box back right side up. Upon inspection it just looks like a normal box of detergent. Of course my drill sgt did inspect it and and found nothing. He questioned who the fuck would send me such a package. I just played it off as a joke. He bought it I was home free, right?... Wrong. Just like in most things in my life I forgot the little details, like remembering to lock my wall locker. A favorite past time of drill sgt's is pull on the locks of everyone's wall locker and make sure they're secure. A few of us thought we were smart and could save some time by making our locks look locked but all we had to do was pull down on the lock. (believe me every second of sleep helps). Anyway, of course my wall locker was unlocked, which was an invitaion to take everything in my wall locker and throw it about in a reckless way. When he did this he had a ball with the big ass box of detergent. When all of a sudden I hear a loud crash. Immediatly I know exactly what has happened, my poor bottle of jack is all over the floor in the bay. I'm not terribly excited. Needles to say my the rest of my night isn't a cake walk. The next day is our end of cycle testing. Which is a bunch of crap, we also get ot write a letter to our drill sgt highlighting the positive and negative points of the last 3 weeks. Again I decided to act without thinking. The gist of what my letter says is that yeah I got the shit smoked out of me but those few sips of the tasty beverage that is jack daniels was well worth it. Now let me remind you that there are suppossed to be no consequences for anything we write. Not so for me. It's taken me a long time to figure out that technicalites don't mean shit in the real world. I'm not sure how many of you are familiar with m.o.p level 4 but basically it's a charcoal chemical suit with a chemical mask and akward rubber boots and gloves. Anyway during the entire testing I had to be in mop level 4, it's hot as shit and not too easy to breath through that chemical mask. Anytime we were standing in line idle I had to be doing up downs, if you've played football you know what kind of hell that is in just pads and a helmet, imagine a charcoal suit. It wasn't fun, but as I look back on it, I have to say those few moments of bliss that I got from that bottle of jack daniels was well worth it. The funny this is after it was all said and done my favorite drill sgt. said it was the funniest shit he'd ever seen and that I was gonna be alright, and probably a lifer. He was wrong about that last part, although I do miss the army and wish I never got out... well rather kicked out for being an alchoholic. That's another story you'll read soon enough. Seriously who gets kicked out of the army for being an alchoholic every one is an alchoholic. Oh well, live and learn
Tips on appropriate bar behavior
Someone once pointed out to me the fact that there seems to be a micro-economy in the service industry. Restaurant workers take their tip money out to bars and clubs at night and give it to the bartenders, who promptly return it to the waiters and waitresses the next day at lunch. The cycle is almost self-sufficient and is mutually beneficial. Knowing the pain of waiting on customers, each group tips the other well and never raises a fuss. These people do not need to be educated. The rest of you do.
Many of us have stood in a noisy, crowded bar and asked, "What's a guy got to do to get a drink around here?" Well, you're about to find out. Here are some Do's and Don'ts that will keep the relationship between the bartender and bar patron running smoothly.
DON'TS
Fail to have your money ready
We're waiting on you. Everyone else is waiting on us. Therefore, by the Transitive Property of Equality, everyone is waiting on you. Rule #1: Have your shit together. Not only will following Rule #1 get you served quicker in a bar, it's a good general rule to adopt in life and is especially helpful in Central American border crossing scenarios.
Whistle
This is an absolute No-No. You whistle at dogs and pretty ladies, not people.
Wave money
Oh, you've got a dollar!! I'll be right over!! Hopefully I won't break an ankle in my fevered rush to get you your "curz lite." Well, at least you're not breaking the next rule.
Say "make it strong!" or "put a lot of liquor in it"
Oh, you're one of the rare drinkers that like their drink strong! When you say this, you're assuming I make weak drinks (which is insulting) and you're assuming that I'll stiffen this one up for my new best buddy, you. This is the best way to get a weak drink.
Give the ever-expanding drink order
You want a Bud. I go get it. I come back and now you want a Margarita. Okay, no prob. I come back, and (oh yeah!) now you want a shot of Tequila, too. You really could have told us this all at once. See Rule #1.
Pull the redirect (or the bait 'n' switch)
Usually used after the money wave or the whistle, this is when the gentlemen passes his turn to the lady behind him. Yeah, um, don't do that, okay? Chances are she's not ready, and your weak attempt at chivalry just cost you your turn. See you in 30 minutes.
Try the confused, lost look
This is usually accompanied by the question "What kind of beer y'all got?" while looking at all the beers we have. You did know you were in a bar, right? You didn't just appear here, did you? Refer to Rule #1.
Order High Maintenance shooters
Example: "Lemme get an Alabama Slammer, a Red Snapper, two Kamikazes, a Buttery Nipple and a Lemon Drop." Usually followed by a small tip. People, these shooters are fine by themselves, but there are multiple steps involved with each one. Translation: Time Sink. You may get them this time, but you'll probably be waited on last the next time we see your face. Here's a clue as to whether or not you're high maintenance; if two bartenders are working and they see you, and they flip a coin and the loser comes over to take your order, pretty good chance you're high maintenance.
Assume we know you're in the band
We know, we know, you're gonna be really famous, but you're not there yet, tiger. Tell us you're in the band and which band you're in. By the way, if you are in a band and get free/reduced drink prices, feel free to tip, as most bartenders are also in bands! It's not like we don't know how it is. Oh, and our bands will smoke your band.
Assume we know you period
Unless you've followed the first "Do" rule below, we don't remember you. You are one of a thousand faces for us, and when you point at an empty glass or a beer bottle that's invariably facing away from us, your attempt at a shortcut backfires. Tell us what you want.
Apologize for sucking
Don't apologize for not tipping. Acknowledging that you suck is not the same as not sucking. Oh, and don't say "I'll get ya next time." We know all about you.
Assume soft drinks are free
Are they free at McDonald's? Are they free at Wal-Mart? Are they free anywhere? I blame M.A.D.D. for this myth.
Put pennies and nickels in the tip jar
We don't want that crap in our pockets any more than you do. We don't have anything smaller than quarters. Have you ever ordered a drink that cost $3.17?
Be "The Microbrew Aficionado"
Usually a pseudo-hippy who can't tip a quarter but can't bring himself to drink "schwag," and who has to sample some new berry-wheat-harvest-ale that he heard about at Burning Man. "Do you have the new Vernal-Equinox Special Welcome-Fest?" "Does Anyone?" Here's your Newcastle. Go.
Be "The Daddy Warbucks"
Dressed in classic day-trader wear, this loud, boisterous guy smokes cigars and orders Martinis and generally exudes an air of money. Until the tip. We hate you.
Be a "Whiney Baby"
Under no circumstances should you ever whine to a bartender when asked to see your ID. Our jobs depend on them, and when we spot a fake/expired ID, don't argue; we've seen and heard it all a million times before, and it will get you absolutely nowhere. If you "don't have one" or "forgot it," forget it; you don't belong out on the town in the first place. That's the law, plain and simple. If we don't have the law, the terrorists win. You don't want the terrorists to win, do you? Bring your ID. Remember Rule #1, from a minute ago?
DO'S
Tip
Tip heavy right off the bat, and you're the first person we aim for every time you come up to the bar. Did you get that? Go back and read it again. The word will spread to the other bartenders and you'll be treated like a prince. It will pay off in better drinks and the occasional free one.
Be patient
All you really need to do to get waited on is make eye contact. We see you, and we'll get to you before the guy right next to you waving money and whistling. Remember, this isn't insulin we're passing out here. If you really need the drink that bad, you've got a problem to address, Jack. The meek shall inherit the bar.
Be an attractive female
As in life, this goes far.
If this comes across as a little petty, remember: bartenders are a jaded lot.
Many of us have stood in a noisy, crowded bar and asked, "What's a guy got to do to get a drink around here?" Well, you're about to find out. Here are some Do's and Don'ts that will keep the relationship between the bartender and bar patron running smoothly.
DON'TS
Fail to have your money ready
We're waiting on you. Everyone else is waiting on us. Therefore, by the Transitive Property of Equality, everyone is waiting on you. Rule #1: Have your shit together. Not only will following Rule #1 get you served quicker in a bar, it's a good general rule to adopt in life and is especially helpful in Central American border crossing scenarios.
Whistle
This is an absolute No-No. You whistle at dogs and pretty ladies, not people.
Wave money
Oh, you've got a dollar!! I'll be right over!! Hopefully I won't break an ankle in my fevered rush to get you your "curz lite." Well, at least you're not breaking the next rule.
Say "make it strong!" or "put a lot of liquor in it"
Oh, you're one of the rare drinkers that like their drink strong! When you say this, you're assuming I make weak drinks (which is insulting) and you're assuming that I'll stiffen this one up for my new best buddy, you. This is the best way to get a weak drink.
Give the ever-expanding drink order
You want a Bud. I go get it. I come back and now you want a Margarita. Okay, no prob. I come back, and (oh yeah!) now you want a shot of Tequila, too. You really could have told us this all at once. See Rule #1.
Pull the redirect (or the bait 'n' switch)
Usually used after the money wave or the whistle, this is when the gentlemen passes his turn to the lady behind him. Yeah, um, don't do that, okay? Chances are she's not ready, and your weak attempt at chivalry just cost you your turn. See you in 30 minutes.
Try the confused, lost look
This is usually accompanied by the question "What kind of beer y'all got?" while looking at all the beers we have. You did know you were in a bar, right? You didn't just appear here, did you? Refer to Rule #1.
Order High Maintenance shooters
Example: "Lemme get an Alabama Slammer, a Red Snapper, two Kamikazes, a Buttery Nipple and a Lemon Drop." Usually followed by a small tip. People, these shooters are fine by themselves, but there are multiple steps involved with each one. Translation: Time Sink. You may get them this time, but you'll probably be waited on last the next time we see your face. Here's a clue as to whether or not you're high maintenance; if two bartenders are working and they see you, and they flip a coin and the loser comes over to take your order, pretty good chance you're high maintenance.
Assume we know you're in the band
We know, we know, you're gonna be really famous, but you're not there yet, tiger. Tell us you're in the band and which band you're in. By the way, if you are in a band and get free/reduced drink prices, feel free to tip, as most bartenders are also in bands! It's not like we don't know how it is. Oh, and our bands will smoke your band.
Assume we know you period
Unless you've followed the first "Do" rule below, we don't remember you. You are one of a thousand faces for us, and when you point at an empty glass or a beer bottle that's invariably facing away from us, your attempt at a shortcut backfires. Tell us what you want.
Apologize for sucking
Don't apologize for not tipping. Acknowledging that you suck is not the same as not sucking. Oh, and don't say "I'll get ya next time." We know all about you.
Assume soft drinks are free
Are they free at McDonald's? Are they free at Wal-Mart? Are they free anywhere? I blame M.A.D.D. for this myth.
Put pennies and nickels in the tip jar
We don't want that crap in our pockets any more than you do. We don't have anything smaller than quarters. Have you ever ordered a drink that cost $3.17?
Be "The Microbrew Aficionado"
Usually a pseudo-hippy who can't tip a quarter but can't bring himself to drink "schwag," and who has to sample some new berry-wheat-harvest-ale that he heard about at Burning Man. "Do you have the new Vernal-Equinox Special Welcome-Fest?" "Does Anyone?" Here's your Newcastle. Go.
Be "The Daddy Warbucks"
Dressed in classic day-trader wear, this loud, boisterous guy smokes cigars and orders Martinis and generally exudes an air of money. Until the tip. We hate you.
Be a "Whiney Baby"
Under no circumstances should you ever whine to a bartender when asked to see your ID. Our jobs depend on them, and when we spot a fake/expired ID, don't argue; we've seen and heard it all a million times before, and it will get you absolutely nowhere. If you "don't have one" or "forgot it," forget it; you don't belong out on the town in the first place. That's the law, plain and simple. If we don't have the law, the terrorists win. You don't want the terrorists to win, do you? Bring your ID. Remember Rule #1, from a minute ago?
DO'S
Tip
Tip heavy right off the bat, and you're the first person we aim for every time you come up to the bar. Did you get that? Go back and read it again. The word will spread to the other bartenders and you'll be treated like a prince. It will pay off in better drinks and the occasional free one.
Be patient
All you really need to do to get waited on is make eye contact. We see you, and we'll get to you before the guy right next to you waving money and whistling. Remember, this isn't insulin we're passing out here. If you really need the drink that bad, you've got a problem to address, Jack. The meek shall inherit the bar.
Be an attractive female
As in life, this goes far.
If this comes across as a little petty, remember: bartenders are a jaded lot.
waiters
I guess since most of my links are to other blogs that have something to do with the service industry I guess I should write something about waiting tables/bartending. I think I'll just write a few pet peaves
Biggest pet peaves among co workers
A friend of mine who had been working at a bar for years and years once told me that most places have a core group of two or three people who keep the place running and the rest are just eye candy. I think this is sooo true. it's been that way every single place I've ever worked at. and you can guess which side I was on if I'm bitching about it. I was raised to believe that no matter how menial a task is, you do it to the best of your ability. Be professional even if you are a college student just wanting to bartend so you can drink while you work
Biggest pet peave among customers
Boy could this be a million things. I've been unfortunate enough to work a few higher end places in cities with people who didn't understand that you pay for atmosphere and quality. and that white zin isn't anything other than kool aid with alchohol. If I hand you a bill don't ever try to get free shit by complaining about not knowing how much something is. The price is either on the menu or you knew what kind of place you were walking in to. Don't be a cheap ass. I remember as a college student going into a place called morton's steak house in crystal city and paying 80 bucks for a steak... (they didn't have prices on their menu's) ya know what I had to grin and bear it because I knew exactly what type of place it was
Biggest pet peave among owners
This one also involves being cheap. As an owner don't make employees pay for broken dishes, don't charge for simple add-ons, don't charge for modifications. One specific thing that an employer did really really pissed me off. In the city I was working you couldn't be in a bar/club until you were 21 there are well as a restaraunt owner he didn't have to abide by this because his food sales were much higher than his alchohol sales. He'd clear all the tables out of the place and rent it out to sororities and fraternities for formals just to make an extra five hundred bucks. he could sell booze to the over 21 crowd and so he made some money. here's the problem with that. He wouldn't tell his bartenders till the day of so when you thought you'd be getting done at 11 1130 at the latest... you'd actually be there till 4 in the morning cleaning up the fucking mess these idiots left behind. We all know that drunk college kids have no respect for anything or anyone. It really didn't help that after having to deal with 200 fraternity dip shits and they're dumbass well vodka plus whatever they could think of drinks my tip jar generally had about 8 bucks in it... oh and one more don't pay your bartenders 2.13 an hour the only way they can make that money up is by sliding drinks or basically stealing from you. (not that I condone that in any way)
Biggest pet peaves among co workers
A friend of mine who had been working at a bar for years and years once told me that most places have a core group of two or three people who keep the place running and the rest are just eye candy. I think this is sooo true. it's been that way every single place I've ever worked at. and you can guess which side I was on if I'm bitching about it. I was raised to believe that no matter how menial a task is, you do it to the best of your ability. Be professional even if you are a college student just wanting to bartend so you can drink while you work
Biggest pet peave among customers
Boy could this be a million things. I've been unfortunate enough to work a few higher end places in cities with people who didn't understand that you pay for atmosphere and quality. and that white zin isn't anything other than kool aid with alchohol. If I hand you a bill don't ever try to get free shit by complaining about not knowing how much something is. The price is either on the menu or you knew what kind of place you were walking in to. Don't be a cheap ass. I remember as a college student going into a place called morton's steak house in crystal city and paying 80 bucks for a steak... (they didn't have prices on their menu's) ya know what I had to grin and bear it because I knew exactly what type of place it was
Biggest pet peave among owners
This one also involves being cheap. As an owner don't make employees pay for broken dishes, don't charge for simple add-ons, don't charge for modifications. One specific thing that an employer did really really pissed me off. In the city I was working you couldn't be in a bar/club until you were 21 there are well as a restaraunt owner he didn't have to abide by this because his food sales were much higher than his alchohol sales. He'd clear all the tables out of the place and rent it out to sororities and fraternities for formals just to make an extra five hundred bucks. he could sell booze to the over 21 crowd and so he made some money. here's the problem with that. He wouldn't tell his bartenders till the day of so when you thought you'd be getting done at 11 1130 at the latest... you'd actually be there till 4 in the morning cleaning up the fucking mess these idiots left behind. We all know that drunk college kids have no respect for anything or anyone. It really didn't help that after having to deal with 200 fraternity dip shits and they're dumbass well vodka plus whatever they could think of drinks my tip jar generally had about 8 bucks in it... oh and one more don't pay your bartenders 2.13 an hour the only way they can make that money up is by sliding drinks or basically stealing from you. (not that I condone that in any way)
My thoughts on racism.
This has pissed me off for a long while. The world is entirely too sensitive. While I understand that there are real issues with racism in the world and that some people honestly have been oppressed, ya know what?... The worst of it was 200 years ago. GET OVER IT! I don't mean to sound insensitive, but I'm tired of not being able to be critical of anyone of a different skin color. Just because I'm a white male I'm evidently incapable of of disliking someone because of anything other than race, sex or anything else that may make you a minority. here's a thought maybe I don't like you because your annoying or your personality disgusts me. I'm tired of having to be overly sensitive because of crap I had nothing to do with. I definitely believe that you're a product of your environment and that poverty has more to do with "disadvantages" that most minorities claim to have. Well guess what, I didn't have it any better. everything I have (which isn't much) I worked for. I served my country and didn't get the benefit of scholarships because of the color of my skin or my gender or anything else that I couldn't control. This little rant has been because of something that happened at work. There is an asian chick at work who is pretty much the most annoying person I've ever met.I won't go into any details but basically we had an issue with miscommunication. This reminds me of one more tangent I have to go off on. If you can't communicate effectively in the language of the area you live in... don't take a job where it's of the utmost importance that people understand exactly what you're saying. Alright back to the story. So this lady and I have this conversation
her: so you mean "this"
me: no I mean exactly what I said
her: so you mean "this"
me: NO! I mean exactly what I said
this went on for about five minutes when i was super busy. basically I ended it by saying What the fuck is your problem. She's one of those people who want to be right about something dumb just for the sake of being right. The whole situation is obviously my fault. here's a thought if someone knows English better than you, He probably knows exactly what the fuck he just said.. Ala me in this situation... The next day I was in my bosses' office being written up for "not respecting the cultural differences of other people" It kinda pisses me off I don't hate her because she's a woman or asian, I hate her because she annoys the shit out of me, constantly mixes viatnamese with her english, and generally doesn't communicate effectively... Please world... understand I don't hate you because of differences you can't control I hate you because you annoy the piss out of me.. and you CAN control that!
her: so you mean "this"
me: no I mean exactly what I said
her: so you mean "this"
me: NO! I mean exactly what I said
this went on for about five minutes when i was super busy. basically I ended it by saying What the fuck is your problem. She's one of those people who want to be right about something dumb just for the sake of being right. The whole situation is obviously my fault. here's a thought if someone knows English better than you, He probably knows exactly what the fuck he just said.. Ala me in this situation... The next day I was in my bosses' office being written up for "not respecting the cultural differences of other people" It kinda pisses me off I don't hate her because she's a woman or asian, I hate her because she annoys the shit out of me, constantly mixes viatnamese with her english, and generally doesn't communicate effectively... Please world... understand I don't hate you because of differences you can't control I hate you because you annoy the piss out of me.. and you CAN control that!
misadventures in st louis
this is an old post mostly unedited but I think it's much better than the crap I just wrote as I was trying to leave work... it's from april of last year
I'm not entirely sure how many people knew I was going to st louis for a game on thursday... so guess what I went to see a cardinals game...An old room mate of mine from utah is going to medical school in maine and decided to take a road trip and see as many ballparks as he could on his was from utah to maine, so I decided I'd at least meet him for the st. louis leg seeing as I've been a cardinals fan since I was old enough to know what baseball was... The trip started off alright I picked up some vodka redbull and gatorade to make a little tucker death mix in my camel back... while I don't condone drinking and driving the drive to st. louis is VERY boring so I HAD to do SOMETHING... so I arrive in st. louis about 2 30 am and I call my friend tracy to see what hotel he has decided to stay at and he seems to think it's a good idea to stay in east st. louis cause it's cheaper... I immediatly begin to drink even more... scared that this may be my last day alive... I tell him my fears of staying in a place in east st. louis so his solution is to stay in st. charles wtf... it's like a 50 minute drive on the far west side of st. louis so 415 rolls around and I finally find the hotel... needless to say I've had alot more to drink ... 1100 in the morning rolls around and I don't feel so well but guess what the game is at 1200 so I have to get up. hooray for seeing albert pujols! (who was out of the lineup btw) we make it to the game and all we have is shitty standing room only tickets... when out of the sky shines a wonderful bright light in the form of a scalper with tickets in the 7th row. I manage to talk him down to 20 bucks apiece for $80 tickets... I'm awfully proud of myself... I think I deserve a celabratory beer... after I finish the tucker death mix I brought with me of course... I was a little surprised at the lack of security... oh well so I end up standing in line for about 20 minutes just to get a goose and cranberry... I'm not terribly excited by that. oh well fuck it... I flirt with the bartender to get a little extra goose... this doesn't work because I'm fat but sometimes forget this fact... oh well fuck her... needless to say I got drunk anyway and generally made an ass of myself talking about thai prostitutes trying to get a reaction from the hot 40 year old chick with fake breasts in front of us... anyway I had given the standing room only tickets away to some kids looking for tickets earlier so I figured this would be good karma.. right??? alright skipping ahead several hours (mostly because I can't remember them) I went to dinner with my friend susan (who is actually my live in girlfriend with whom I have a baby who knew my life would change so much in a year) who happened to be in town also and I was still a little drunk thank goodness her family didn't know... oh well so after dinner my friends decided they were going to go to the casino... I was intrigued... I'd never been to a casino, I avoided them due to my addictive personality... seriously I drink too muh I smoke too much I've done too many drugs... I pretty much get addicted to anything and everything I shouldn't... long story short I'd like to thank missouri legislators for limiting a person's one day losses to $500 otherwise I'm sure I'd be homeless shortly... stupid black jack... I went up huge I was up like 600 bucks at the five dollar table... so naturally I thought I'd go hang out at the 25 dollar table... bad idea.... I proceeded to lose all $1100 in less than two hours... worst part is I spent all my drinking money gambling... this low rent shit hole of a casino actually charged for drinks ... wtf... I'd think they'd want me drunk to lose all my money... well looks like it happened anyway.... and anyone want to go to the casino?????
I'm not entirely sure how many people knew I was going to st louis for a game on thursday... so guess what I went to see a cardinals game...An old room mate of mine from utah is going to medical school in maine and decided to take a road trip and see as many ballparks as he could on his was from utah to maine, so I decided I'd at least meet him for the st. louis leg seeing as I've been a cardinals fan since I was old enough to know what baseball was... The trip started off alright I picked up some vodka redbull and gatorade to make a little tucker death mix in my camel back... while I don't condone drinking and driving the drive to st. louis is VERY boring so I HAD to do SOMETHING... so I arrive in st. louis about 2 30 am and I call my friend tracy to see what hotel he has decided to stay at and he seems to think it's a good idea to stay in east st. louis cause it's cheaper... I immediatly begin to drink even more... scared that this may be my last day alive... I tell him my fears of staying in a place in east st. louis so his solution is to stay in st. charles wtf... it's like a 50 minute drive on the far west side of st. louis so 415 rolls around and I finally find the hotel... needless to say I've had alot more to drink ... 1100 in the morning rolls around and I don't feel so well but guess what the game is at 1200 so I have to get up. hooray for seeing albert pujols! (who was out of the lineup btw) we make it to the game and all we have is shitty standing room only tickets... when out of the sky shines a wonderful bright light in the form of a scalper with tickets in the 7th row. I manage to talk him down to 20 bucks apiece for $80 tickets... I'm awfully proud of myself... I think I deserve a celabratory beer... after I finish the tucker death mix I brought with me of course... I was a little surprised at the lack of security... oh well so I end up standing in line for about 20 minutes just to get a goose and cranberry... I'm not terribly excited by that. oh well fuck it... I flirt with the bartender to get a little extra goose... this doesn't work because I'm fat but sometimes forget this fact... oh well fuck her... needless to say I got drunk anyway and generally made an ass of myself talking about thai prostitutes trying to get a reaction from the hot 40 year old chick with fake breasts in front of us... anyway I had given the standing room only tickets away to some kids looking for tickets earlier so I figured this would be good karma.. right??? alright skipping ahead several hours (mostly because I can't remember them) I went to dinner with my friend susan (who is actually my live in girlfriend with whom I have a baby who knew my life would change so much in a year) who happened to be in town also and I was still a little drunk thank goodness her family didn't know... oh well so after dinner my friends decided they were going to go to the casino... I was intrigued... I'd never been to a casino, I avoided them due to my addictive personality... seriously I drink too muh I smoke too much I've done too many drugs... I pretty much get addicted to anything and everything I shouldn't... long story short I'd like to thank missouri legislators for limiting a person's one day losses to $500 otherwise I'm sure I'd be homeless shortly... stupid black jack... I went up huge I was up like 600 bucks at the five dollar table... so naturally I thought I'd go hang out at the 25 dollar table... bad idea.... I proceeded to lose all $1100 in less than two hours... worst part is I spent all my drinking money gambling... this low rent shit hole of a casino actually charged for drinks ... wtf... I'd think they'd want me drunk to lose all my money... well looks like it happened anyway.... and anyone want to go to the casino?????
Thursday, May 24, 2007
a idea of what to expect
Right now I'm just sitting at work bored out of my mind. So naturally I decided it was a good idea to randomly start a blog. I guess that is kinda what a do though, whatever randomly pops into my head. I'm not a great writer. I work in a medical lab and went to school for that, not literature or English or anything of the such. I'm not a word smith but I have some pretty funny stories. I'm a small town kid that has seen more than I ever thought was possible I grew up in a small town in the Midwest but I've been all over the place mostly through the army, although I am out now. I just had a little boy and he probably saved me from alcoholism. I'll have a mixture of funny or weird medical stories from time spent in a few different hospitals, some army bachelor stories, alot of drunk stories, some bartending/waiting stories. and even a few stories from when I had more money than I could ever spend. you'd be amazed at how easily you can get into trouble with money. I'll give you a mini story that happened tonight that I thought was pretty funny.
So this guy comes into the lab right as we're finishing all the outpatient stuff we do. He's a recovering addict that has to do weekly urine tests to stay out of rehab. As it turns out he would have been better off just going home rather insisting that he get his piss test done today. One of our other techs get's the privledge of escorting him to the men's room and describing how to clean his penis and piss in a cup, she's an asian chick that doesn't speak english as well as I'd like her to so I can imagine this is a little akward for everyone involved. The kid is wearing baggy shorts and she's suspicious of something in his pocket so she calls me over to pat him down... is she kidding? I don't care enough to pat this kid down I do see an odd bulge in his pocket that I cautiously grab hoping and praying to god that it's not an erection, seeing as he did come with what I presumed to be his girlfriend. She was definitely doable... not a girl you'd spend a lot of time energy or money on trying to bed but very doable. anyway it turns out it's just his wallet...thank God. I'm pretty sure he's using it as a decoy but at this point I just don't care that much and I figure if he's willing to go through this much trouble to change his piss test then fuck it... let him be. For god sake's he looks like he's walking with a corn cob up his ass he's either trying to keep something squeezed between his legs or god forbid up his ass. Like I said... this much effort deserves a little credit. He emerges from the bathroom with a half full cup of room temp liquid that is probably someone else's piss. Just a point of reference... piss comes out of your body pretty warm. My thought is his girl prob pissed in a cup for him and he stuck some container up his ass... now that's wha t I call love. Everyone involved is pretty sure it's not his piss but we run it anyway. guess what... it comes up positive for thc and opiates. What a dumb fuck! Here's rule one of getting over on a piss test... make sure that whomever gives you your "clean" piss isn't a bigger drug addict than you. Some people say I'm a little narcissistic and a little too full of myself, but ya know what this is another story that gives proof to my theory that they're are only two types of people in the world
A. dumbasses
and
B. Me
please someone prove me wrong.
hope you enjoyed
So this guy comes into the lab right as we're finishing all the outpatient stuff we do. He's a recovering addict that has to do weekly urine tests to stay out of rehab. As it turns out he would have been better off just going home rather insisting that he get his piss test done today. One of our other techs get's the privledge of escorting him to the men's room and describing how to clean his penis and piss in a cup, she's an asian chick that doesn't speak english as well as I'd like her to so I can imagine this is a little akward for everyone involved. The kid is wearing baggy shorts and she's suspicious of something in his pocket so she calls me over to pat him down... is she kidding? I don't care enough to pat this kid down I do see an odd bulge in his pocket that I cautiously grab hoping and praying to god that it's not an erection, seeing as he did come with what I presumed to be his girlfriend. She was definitely doable... not a girl you'd spend a lot of time energy or money on trying to bed but very doable. anyway it turns out it's just his wallet...thank God. I'm pretty sure he's using it as a decoy but at this point I just don't care that much and I figure if he's willing to go through this much trouble to change his piss test then fuck it... let him be. For god sake's he looks like he's walking with a corn cob up his ass he's either trying to keep something squeezed between his legs or god forbid up his ass. Like I said... this much effort deserves a little credit. He emerges from the bathroom with a half full cup of room temp liquid that is probably someone else's piss. Just a point of reference... piss comes out of your body pretty warm. My thought is his girl prob pissed in a cup for him and he stuck some container up his ass... now that's wha t I call love. Everyone involved is pretty sure it's not his piss but we run it anyway. guess what... it comes up positive for thc and opiates. What a dumb fuck! Here's rule one of getting over on a piss test... make sure that whomever gives you your "clean" piss isn't a bigger drug addict than you. Some people say I'm a little narcissistic and a little too full of myself, but ya know what this is another story that gives proof to my theory that they're are only two types of people in the world
A. dumbasses
and
B. Me
please someone prove me wrong.
hope you enjoyed
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