Thursday, September 29, 2005

Back to Business

I sure hope this isn't just me...
I seem to frequently lose my cell phone. I don't mean "lose" in the Bill Noesges sense, i.e. spiking it into a pool, leaving it at complete strangers' houses, and punting it across a parking lot. I mean I lose it like normal people, you know, everyone besides those creeps who use the holster. But being straight means not using the clip and not using the clip means a lot of misplaced phones. Hours will go by until it occurs to me that I haven't heard my phone ring for a while. I do the usual pat down and empty my pockets to no avail. Then I have to backtrack or call it until I find it. Ten minutes later I remember I used it in the car and suddenly everything makes sense. That's why I haven't heard anything about tonight. That's why I didn't get a call back from her. I jog out to my car with my mind racing about all the calls I probably missed, hoping it's not too late to get in on all those cool offers probably received. Then I get to the car, grab my phone, open it up....nothing. Heart drops below sea level. I feel like an idiot; two minutes ago I was thinking that everyone was clamoring to get in contact with me. Turns out, not so much. This happens to other people...right? Please?

To me, this counts as going out.
Saturday night was an adventure. I begrudgingly agreed to go out with a few old friends to a local bar. Now don't jump to conclusions, it wasn't begrudgingly because I'm too cool or because I barely like these people. You just know when you get your mind set on not doing anything and then people want you to go out it seems like an impossible request. But I snapped myself out of it somehow and agreed to go out for a few drinks, though I was not even planning to drink. Ha ha, I know, Brown not planning to drink. I really wasn't, though. I brought a water bottle! Of course after an hour and a half of sobriety that went right out the window. And it led to a pretty fun night.

"...and I'm waiting for you to write something funny."
I got a few references to the blog, but not a critique one way or the other. I would hear something along the lines of, "So I read your blog, Brown." I'm waiting for a critique so I just give an inquisitive, "Ohhh." Then nothing. That's the end of it. It was like that Mitch Hedberg joke. She did not say whether she thought it was good or bad, she merely confirmed that she had read it. So I just kinda smiled and nodded. Another person told me they read it and thought about starting their own but then decided not to. At first I was thinking, ohh well if it inspired someone to start one, I guess that's kind of complimentary, I'll take it. But then they decided against it, so what's that supposed to tell me. Not exactly rave reviews.

Dear fat people, stop ruining everything.
I guess that first sip of beer really got me fired up, because I think I started poppin off about everything. It was almost like a blog, in person! People were talking about TV shows and they were way off the mark. Troung and Erica are talking about One Tree Hill or god knows what so I hijacked the conversation and brought up my favorite fatties, The Biggest Loser. Well lets just say that had mixed results. My guy friends loved it and my girl friends cringed. One girl just had a pained look on her face the whole time, as if she was fat and I was berating her. But she's a cute girl with no weight problem so I didn't see what the issue was. I thought maybe she had an obese relative and for a split second I thought about slowing down until I hear, "Well it's not their fault..." Oh boy, look out. I cut her right off.

"Yeah yeah I've heard it all: metabolism, thyroid, glandular, hormones, big bones. It's bullshit. People have different body types, but no one's body type is 5'4" 260. These people are obese and it's disgusting."
"So you really hate fat people."
"Yes!" [stunned silence besides my one friend dying laughing] "Don't you look at me like that! They hated us first! Skinny people are the minority! Don't take pity on those fat bastards!"

It starts to sound like a rally against fat people, and a few girls are wincing but I can't help myself. And it's not that I hate all fat people either but don't expect sympathy from me when we're the ones who are persecuted. I dipped into a little bit of my evidence on this topic but I'll save that for its own entry. The best part came when I started to curtail myself only to have my friend Pete go, "Cmon I wanna hear more of this monologue!" Of course I launch back in for a few more digs. But it doesn't end there folks.

Maybe it was Bazooka Joe.
So I guess I got a second chance from the horrified girl because later in the night we end up sitting next to each other and she's being pleasant. Now she's practically married so its not like that, but I figured after the assault on fat people that she would have abruptly left, as so many girls have. But no I've known her for a while so we're back to talking later on, and she tells me she knows a funny joke. Now just so you all know, I abhor jokes. I'm talking about jokey jokes. Anything that starts with a "Knock-Knock" or a "What do you call a" is infinitely lame. But I didn't want to cut her off, I already did enough damage tonight. So she tells me something along the lines of one of those jokes, like 'What's black and white and blah blah blah.' Then she delivers the punchline and I just smirk politely. She insists, "Isn't that funny?" Taken aback, I'm like, "Ha, what?" I look over and she's downright gleeful. "Isn't that funny??" she repeats. I say, "Yea yea that's great, did you get that joke off a popsicle or what." She is not amused. I go, "Sorry, maybe it was a Now&Later." Nail in the coffin. Whatever happened to the "I already did enough damage" theory? I just can't help myself.

Worse than Booth and company in 1865
The night ended with the shadiest of all deals to ever go down in a bar. All I can say is that it includes myself and two other people, and I can't tell you their names. But they're Peter Schrager and Tom Farabaugh.

No comments: