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Monday, May 06, 2002
It's beginning to sound cliche with me, but the weekend is over, I survived, it's Monday, Thank God. I worked Friday and it was fine. The days of working with Nay-nay are almost over. But she's only moving to Madison, so she can come and visit. Saturday I had the nice surprise of working with Mindy instead of the "other" one. Seems the old chucklehead made her leave a wedding reception early so he could play at his other bar. Suck it soccer boy! Ok, enough about him.
We also had a 21st birthday party done at the P. I've said this before but it seems someone wasn't paying attention. They are called urinals because that is what goes in them. Urine. Again, they are not called Vomitals. (More about that later). But Wally was still there so he won the job of clean-up. Cheers. What's the lesson here? Wrong. It's actually that I shouldn't work with Mindy any more. Bad stuff always happens when we are behind the bar together. But you know what? I really didn't even care, because earlier in the day my wife and I went to see Spider-Man. (Yeah, I'm going again). And I got new shoes. Hey, it's the little things in life.
That being said, there's something I need to get off my chest:
An Open Letter to the Assholes of the World
I don't know if Winnebago county doesn't teach driver's education, but it seems to me that there is a larger proportion of idiot's with cars in that county than anywhere else. I'm going 75ish, you are going 67 and are in the left hand lane. There is room to your right, but not on mine so I can't pass. Do you either A) Move over and let me pass or B) Move over and let me pass. Apparently the answer is C) Stay where you are, raise my blood pressure to the point of heartattack level, wait for me to die, and then you won't have to worry about me. Oh, and if I do manage to somehow get around you in the right hand lane, the very last thing you should do is move over as soon as I am in front of you. See, I already got around you so I don't need you to move over now. Do that, and I will be forced to do a U-Turn right in the middle of the highway and ram you full on.
If you are going out for someone's 21st birthday, for fuck's sake find one person to be responsible in the group. If you know the kid doesn't smoke, don't give him a cigarette when he's drunk. And tell me how much he's had at home so I can cut him off before he's unloading in the urinals. And instead of leaving him sitting in the bathroom, take him out the back and let him finish outside, put him in a car and drive him the hell home. And oh yeah, how about offering to help with the clean-up? You helped cause it. "Oh, I have a gag-reflex..." Who the fuck doesn't?? Get over it, get in there and help! And if you don't, how about leaving some form of a tip? Howler monkies.
Yes, I am bigger than most people out there. Let's find something else to focus on. If I say something about having a stomach ache and you say something like, "Must be a hell of an ache." and then you wonder why I walk away and don't serve you anymore, you're dumber than most. You don't see me making fun of you big nose, loss of hair, ugly significant other, lazy eye or any other of your quirks. Leave it alone or I swear to God I will snap you in half. Trust me on this, I can.
That's all I have in me for now. There may be more, but I feel better. Thanks for reading.
"The problem with the world is that everyone is a few drinks behind."--Humphrey Bogart
Craig @ 12:01 PM
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