Thursday, September 29, 2005

What a debacle!

It was about 7pm when I sat there, wondering how long this would last. Surely we wouldn't stay to the end. We did. And I didn't call anyone Shirley.

I was offered a ticket to the Brewers game the other night. Seeing how it would be the second to last home game, I jumped at the chance to watch my team live for the last time this year.

Considering that it was a 6:30 first pitch, I decided not to screw around with trying to get home, relax, change and run back to the stadium. It would be a rainy day so that would screw traffic up right there. So I brought a change of clothes to work. But I left that in the car.

At 4:20, I left work to meet a friend at a bar by another friend's house. I have been in this place a number of times over the last 15 years. I avoided the freeways because they were a mess and made it to the bar in good time. There were maybe 7 people in there. I ordered a beer and sat back observe and listen. There was one loud guy in there making a comment about anything and everything to the bartender. Soon, some friends of his, or the bartender, would come in and sit by him. This is when I noticed the phone. They had the bar's phone in front of them and started making calls all over the place. The chick that was with them, a small version of the Bride of Frankenstein- I mean her hair was sticking straight up and she was scary- pulled out her own little phone book and started making calls. Between the 3 of them, they made calls over the next half hour. If someone called the bar, they answered it.

Soon my friend showed up. He sat down and ordered a Leinie's Red and a shot of Jack. I guess he wasn't kidding about needing a drink after work. I motioned to the bartender to take it out of the cash in front of me and she grabbed some money. We sat there shooting the shit for a while until I noticed something floating in my beer. I have no clue exactly what it was. Either some phlegm (definitely not mine!) or some chunk that came through the beer line. It did gross out the bartender who understood that I would be switching to bottles. My buddy downed his beer and ordered another one. I was on the phone- no not the bar's phone though I might as well have used it like everyone else- talking with another person we were meeting for the game when I noticed the bartender give him the beer and take MY money again! WTF!?!? I felt powerless on the phone as it happened. I just started laughing as did my friend as he drank the beer. That was the turning point in the day.

We soon left to meet up with the other guys. I changed clothes at my friend's house. It was then I wondered if I would be warm enough. I just had a pair of jeans and a Brewers jersey. I figured that would be good. But I didn't factor in the rain. So I got a bit wet heading into the stadium. Even though we had a parking pass, it felt like we were right next to the freeway. I sucked it up, grabbed my nuts (peanuts people), and headed in to get a beer.

Simply put, Capuano did not have his stuff. If he won last night, he would get a chance to go for 20 wins on Sunday. After getting beat up for a couple of runs in the first, everyone knew that wouldn't happen. The Crew didn't have much going for them as they got shelled, 11-4. For me the entertainment was sitting next to me.

This guy had to be in his mid 40s. He came in, removed his coat, pulled out a plastic bag, swapped hats in the bag, sat down and pulled out a baseball glove. Huh? A grown man was in the first row of the second level looking to catch foul balls. Am I the only one that found this strange? Plus, throughout the game he kept yapping with his friend about the best baseball strategy and this and that. I felt like taking a handful of peanuts and shoving them in his piehole. Or telling him he was an idiot for some of the things he said.

Like this one: The Reds pitcher was up with a man on first and one out. It is mid-game and they have a comfortable lead. The pitcher makes two attempts to lay down a bunt. Mr. Baseball on my right begins to explain the rule for a fouled bunt attempt with two strikes and says that now the pitcher will hit away. I laughed. I knew the pitcher would attempt the bunt again. The two strikes didn't matter. It was the best attempt to advance the runner and possibly get on base. It he hits away, he will most likely strike out. Sure enough, bunt foul, he is out. Mr. Baseball goes off on how stupid it was. Yeah, whatever dipshit.

Or this gem. Their conversation turned to the Packers. He was saying they should trade Brett Favre now to the Jets for a first round draft pick. He says the Jets are desperate and would probably give a first and third pick for Favre. Ok, the Jets may be in a bind. But no team is going to give the Packers a first round pick for Favre. Not a single one. Not even close. Who would give up that pick for a guy who will play just 12 games for them? (That is factoring one week to learn their playbook) That is insane. Later my friend would notice the guy had a comb in his back pocket just like they did in the 80s. What a dork!

For some reason, we stayed the entire game. Every out of the debacle. I will tell you how bad the game was. I had one beer during the whole thing. One beer. It ruined my thirst for beer. That is how bad it was. But the night wasn't over.

We head out the stadium to get knocked over by a brisk wind. It cooled off further outside but wasn't too bad. We get in the car and try to get out of the parking lot. The police officer lets the cars in front of us go but stops us to get 14 bajillion people cross in front of us. We were the last car in the line. Why couldn't he just let us go to? The driver then remarks about "rocking out" to put the game behind us. The first song he hits onthe radio is Comfortably Numb. Ok, Pink Floyd ain't gonna rock with that song. Then he hits Krokus- Midnight Maniac- which supposedly was on the "classic rock" station and turns it off. WTF? He hits a couple more stations before stopping on country music. We complained from the back. I didn't want to hear some Aussie twang that sounded like a castrated sheep dog (Who can guess the artist based on that description?). When it was over, it got worse. Next he turned on Mr. Big.

AAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH! Kill me now! Kill me now!

I bolted from the car when we got to his house. He had put another crap ass song on. There is nothing worse than a driver forcing others to listen to their crappy music. You need to think of others in the vehicle. My taste in music is quite a bit different from my friends. I don't force them to listen to Anthrax or Slayer. I find something we can all stand. Please, don't do that to others.

Today looks to be a long day. Work, charity poker game, run to the store to get stuff for camping this weekend and laundry. Don't know how I will get it all in. Actually, my main thought is how much beer I can get in me in the hour between finishing work and playing the poker game. I always play better after having a couple of beers.

Finally, what the hell is wrong with people. Czabe has a blurb about people not having time for sex and skipping to In Vitro Fertilization. WTF? Well that is the problem, there is no F in this story. If your life is too busy to have sex, then you are too busy to have kids. How can you pass up the sex? I can't get any and some people are too busy? Screw them!


Erik said...

I can understand IVF for people who can't concieve, but having kids requires love. Two people who don't want to even have sex with each other obvious have no love to share. We don't need people like that having kids they grow up to be our next antisocial types who use and abuse the good people out there.

The world is a better place if we all love each other more. And make babies the good ol' fashioned way. ;)

J. Gambino said...

I believe Erik, the sensitive soul he is, said it very well. My bet is you can get 4 beers down in the hour and bestarting your 5th when the poker game begins. I have faith in you old boy. Besides, you gotta prime the pump for this weekend. Don't forget to pack for our last camping trip.

Blonde said...

I am all about getting my ass slapped every chance I get. I am the opposite of the IVF thing...I have plenty of time for sex but no time for kids.

I am doing a self experiment by abstaining from actual sex with a partner for the month of October, but masturbation is ok.

Again, no time for kids. People are crazy.

StB said...

As long as the experiment is over by December.

Reading a story like that makes me wonder how those people get through life. I bet they are fun at a party.

Anonymous said...

A Deadly Game of Drinking...

"On the House: The Bizarre Killing of Michael Malloy" hits the shelves Oct. 4. It's the true story of a Depression-era drunk who thwarted numerous attempts on his life. All except the last one, that is. The author's web site is Cheers.

Blonde said...

You are hoping my experiment is over by December, Stb? HAHAHAHAHA!

Is that an offer?

StB said...

Of course! Giddyup Cowgirl!!!

Blonde said...

Yee Haw! I guess I am packing the leather chaps after all...