Repost- New Year Eve Adventures
So just a couple of stories that happened while I was in Dallas that I thought are worth sharing.
Friday, December 30th, 2005: I meet up with Daniel, Neil and Slim shortly before we head out to catch an Old 97's show. While standing outside the venue the line grows, tickets are sought, cops harass a minority. Once inside we post up by the bar and don't leave within arm's reach of a bartender at any moment. The opening band is mildly talented but I become concerned with their sense of stage presence by the white bandana they have tied around their neck as if it was some misguided Tex Ritter ode. After Old 97's are well into the second act of their set a pretty little thing appears in front of me. With plenty of Irish pride (whiskey) in me, I come to the conclusion that there is no reason why this woman shouldn't have the opportunity to meet someone as intoxicatingly handsome (beer goggles) and dashingly witty (slurred speech) as myself. As it turns out she was a walking stereotype of a Plano girl: quite attractive, but spoiled to no end and about as bright as the inventor of the do-it-yourself lobotomy. Now you might be asking yourself did I let this deter me? But of course not, what kind of shallow person would that make me if I disassociated myself from someone solely because their main concern in life was material possessions? After securing her contact information on a napkin; Daniel, Neil, Slim and I begin the trek back to the apartment where I place said napkin on the coffee table. The next day comes; Daniel and I find ourselves hunting to fill the ice chest for the evenings festivities. The hunting-gathering brings us not only ice but chicken teriyaki bowls as well. We sit in the living room and enjoy our some-what messy chicken teriyaki as Grumpier Old Men dances on the screen in front of us. Skip ahead roughly seven hours and we are full tilt boogie for this damn party to start. I go to the coffee table to retrieve the napkin so I can begin the contemplating process on whether I should actually call Ms. Einstein when I notice that the coffee table is napkinless. When questioning Daniel on the disappearance of the only thing that has resembled a dating life for me in the six to eight months his response was something along the line of: "ah, man, you know we ate teriyaki earlier." One image is burnt into my mind, Daniel sitting next to me and wiping his teriyaki covered face with my chance of having someone at hand come midnight... but that's alright, I probably wasn't going to call her anyways.... and I pissed on Daniel's toothbrush.
Saturday, December 31st, 2005: This story is much shorter. Well into the evening after the celebration had long been under way and the jello shots flowed like wine I found myself talking to someone I had never met before, a stranger if you will. She was fairly cute so I was turning on that infamous Rand charm when I made a fairly big slip. There is a joke I've known for some time that goes: "My father taught me to never hit a woman... but he didn't say anything about smackin' a bitch." Crude? Yes. Amusing? To me. After I enter the room and join the conversation between this cute new girl and Daniel the course of discussion some how lead to the topic of violence; as it seems to do quite frequently with Daniel. It is at this moment when I remember this joke of mine. I make the decision to be a bit crude and go ahead with the joke on the off chance we share a similar sense of humor. However, with the Crown Royal filter what came out of my mouth was not the joke but instead "I don't hit women, but I smack bitches!" I didn't see much of her the rest of the night.
Friday, December 30th, 2005: I meet up with Daniel, Neil and Slim shortly before we head out to catch an Old 97's show. While standing outside the venue the line grows, tickets are sought, cops harass a minority. Once inside we post up by the bar and don't leave within arm's reach of a bartender at any moment. The opening band is mildly talented but I become concerned with their sense of stage presence by the white bandana they have tied around their neck as if it was some misguided Tex Ritter ode. After Old 97's are well into the second act of their set a pretty little thing appears in front of me. With plenty of Irish pride (whiskey) in me, I come to the conclusion that there is no reason why this woman shouldn't have the opportunity to meet someone as intoxicatingly handsome (beer goggles) and dashingly witty (slurred speech) as myself. As it turns out she was a walking stereotype of a Plano girl: quite attractive, but spoiled to no end and about as bright as the inventor of the do-it-yourself lobotomy. Now you might be asking yourself did I let this deter me? But of course not, what kind of shallow person would that make me if I disassociated myself from someone solely because their main concern in life was material possessions? After securing her contact information on a napkin; Daniel, Neil, Slim and I begin the trek back to the apartment where I place said napkin on the coffee table. The next day comes; Daniel and I find ourselves hunting to fill the ice chest for the evenings festivities. The hunting-gathering brings us not only ice but chicken teriyaki bowls as well. We sit in the living room and enjoy our some-what messy chicken teriyaki as Grumpier Old Men dances on the screen in front of us. Skip ahead roughly seven hours and we are full tilt boogie for this damn party to start. I go to the coffee table to retrieve the napkin so I can begin the contemplating process on whether I should actually call Ms. Einstein when I notice that the coffee table is napkinless. When questioning Daniel on the disappearance of the only thing that has resembled a dating life for me in the six to eight months his response was something along the line of: "ah, man, you know we ate teriyaki earlier." One image is burnt into my mind, Daniel sitting next to me and wiping his teriyaki covered face with my chance of having someone at hand come midnight... but that's alright, I probably wasn't going to call her anyways.... and I pissed on Daniel's toothbrush.
Saturday, December 31st, 2005: This story is much shorter. Well into the evening after the celebration had long been under way and the jello shots flowed like wine I found myself talking to someone I had never met before, a stranger if you will. She was fairly cute so I was turning on that infamous Rand charm when I made a fairly big slip. There is a joke I've known for some time that goes: "My father taught me to never hit a woman... but he didn't say anything about smackin' a bitch." Crude? Yes. Amusing? To me. After I enter the room and join the conversation between this cute new girl and Daniel the course of discussion some how lead to the topic of violence; as it seems to do quite frequently with Daniel. It is at this moment when I remember this joke of mine. I make the decision to be a bit crude and go ahead with the joke on the off chance we share a similar sense of humor. However, with the Crown Royal filter what came out of my mouth was not the joke but instead "I don't hit women, but I smack bitches!" I didn't see much of her the rest of the night.