I swear, it'll fit. Just put it in.
Good weekend. I like long weekends.
Friday was cool. Got out of work and decided during the last ten minutes that I wanted to go to happy hour, so me and Jess grabbed 2 guys from the back, Jamie and Eric and went over to Applebees. Once again, happy hour turned into happy night, and we stayed til 9 or so. Pretty funny, they insisted on filling me in about everyone in the office. Pretty funny, some juicy stuff. Went home after that with all intentions of going into Brooklyn with Train. Ended up going home, taking some advil and passing out for a few hours. Woke up, cursed out my headache and played WoW for an hour or two. 3/4 of the way to 58. Woo.
Got up at like 10am or so, more WoW. Screwed around on there all morning, and Merri called me to tell me we're taking the 5:45pm train to Brooklyn to go out tonight. Nice. Rushed myself ready at 4:30, flew out the door, got to Merri's at 5:40. Crud. So she ended up driving in. She's insane with her iPod, so we had plenty of music to listen to on the ride in.
Showed up and Train was cooking turkey burgers. Nice, but now we all smell like meat. Oh well. Had some of those for dinner, sat around and drank for an hour or so. Train downed two 40s, me and Merri had 6 or 7 each. We were happy and good to go.
Took off to a bar call Finn McCools, down the block from Train's apartment. A little dive place where everybody knows your name, y'know? The bartender loves him, so we drank for like 2 hours, and paid $16. Left the guy a $30 tip too. 5 or 6 Guiness for Train, another 6 or 7 Budlight for me and Merri.
Manda called, left a message. I dont think my phone ever rang. Nextel is disappointing me. Went outside and called her back for a few. She now has a place to live, even if it's only for a little longer.
Now, at this point we're pretty hammered. We leave McCools and head towards 3rd Ave, lots more bars and clubs there. We stop at a bodega to get some more beers, and we hear Merri mumble something and go outside. Get the beers, go outside and Merri is gone. So we figure she's been abducted and wait for her to come back. Finish our beers, get another one. Right around the time we finish the second beers, she shows back up. Apparently she had to shit bad enough to interrupt a night of drinking. She tried an indian restaurant and a McD's, and finally found a Duane Reade that was willing to let her use the bathroom, after the managers conferred and let her have the key. She played Dizzy Gillespie on the toilet bowl and stumbled back to us.
Finally regrouped, we head to 3rd Ave. First bar we see is a place called J.J. Bubbles. Apparently Train met a chick there 2 weekends ago, so he says we go in. Long as they have drinks, I'm happy. We go in, order a round. There's a table with some foil pans in it, with tinfoil over them. No idea what they are. Merri looks at the wall and sees a 3 foot wide Pabst Blue Ribbon medal sign. The actual ribbon medal, in metal. She says "ooh, I like that. That's awesome." Train's response? "You like that? OK." *riiiiiip* The screwed in sign gets yanked from the wall, loudly. The bar isn't packed, maybe 15 people in there. Everyone heard it. Now they have to figure out what to do with it.
I get to run interference. Unzip the jacket, start yawning and stretching, big flourishing beer drinking. I'm doing everything a drunk person can do to cause a distraction other than starting a fire on a hobo. Train's idea is to stuff the sign in the back of his pants. Yeah. 3 foot sign, 1 foot waist. "I swear, it'll fit. Just put it in." Right Tom. Merri grabs trhe sign, bends it in half and starts cramming it into his belt, under his shirt, beneath his jacket. Not happening. So of course, Train does what any normal thief would do.
He drops his pants.
Yep, right in the bar, off to the side. Undoes his belt and zipper, drops his pants halfway down his thigh. Now of course, Merri can fit the sign, so she crams away. What she doesn't realize is that when Train pulled the sign off the wall, it bent all the corners where the screws were holding it in place. One loud rip later and one of those corners is straight through the back of Tom's shirt. Oh well. Sign is in the pants, shirt over the top, jacket on top of that.
At this point we realize the bartenders are starting to pool up about 10 feet away from us, and notice that they've been going back and forth to the back room for 10 minutes. Yeah, they're just about ready to toss us all on our asses. So we head towards the door, Tom's doing a Frankenstein walk because of the sign. And of course, we see the trays. Train rips off the foil, sees a tray of chicken wings from their earlier wing bar, grabs one, says "Thanks for the grub!" and walks out the door eating the wing, still with a sign stuffed in his back. Balls on that kid.
We finish up the beers we have, since we weren't at Bubbles long enough to drink the first round, and head further uptown. Find a place called the Salty Dog. Sure, why not. Train insists on going in since there will be "mad bitches there." Nice. Of course, he still has the sign in his back. He says I should take it. Fair enough. We go to the bathroom like a pair of idiots and trade the sign out in the only bathroom stall. Takes me ten minutes, and 2 notches on my belt, but I get the sign in. Now I'm walking like Frankenstein, and getting jabbed in the back by a corner. Now Train decided instead of getting a beer and leaving, we're gonna stay and dance. He's real drunk if he's dancing. And I'm in pain. So I say screw it, go back to the bathroom for the 3rd time in 10 minutes, and leave the sign in the stall. We'll see if it lasts.
The next 2 hours are spent by myself and Merri watching Train try to dance with every girl on the dance floor. Try. I think every single one there turned him down, even the fatties. It was bad. But to give my boy credit, he didn't give up. He just kept movin, right through the ranks. After an hour or so, me and Merri had to go dance with/around him a little bit, just so he wouldn't feel bad. Sadly enough, it was a bad night for women, and Merri was an 8-9 in that place. She got swarmed with guys, me and Train just went off and did our own thing.
Finally decide to leave at like 3:30 in the morning. Head back to the bathroom and sure enough, our sign is right where we left it. Behind the door, against the toilet paper. Score. Stuff the sign back into my pants, duck-walk out and grab a cab back to Train's place. Some turkey burgers and chips, and then we all pass out.
Except Merri. She went downstairs to smoke with a guy in the basement. Then she ran off when he went to the bathroom. Class act, that girl.
Woke up Sunday, like 9ish. Had a game to get to at 1pm at home. Stumbled around Train's place, got dressed and ran for the subway. Walk to the subway station, take the R to Atlantic and then jump on the Flatbush Ave train to Jamaica. Finally get into Ronkonkoma at like 12:45, for a 1:00pm game. Had to call my father to pick me up, since my car is at Merri's house. Drops me off at my car and stops to see my grandmother, his mother, for a while.
Get to the game at like ten after 1, playing another 0-6 team. We drive to the 1yard line and blow it. End up losing the game 14-8. Sigh. I pulled up the fingernail on my middle finger, right hand, on the first play. Blood everywhere. End of the game, get a sack and land on my finger, jammed the hell out of it. It's swollen to the size of two fingers right now, and I can only bed it halfway. Oh and I got elbowed in the forehead too. G had a great tackle, he prettymuch lowered his shoulder into the kid to knock him out of bounds. And Joe the lineman had an interception, and then he ran over the other team's quarterback, just bowled him down. Good physical game. 3 more sacks for me. I felt like Benny Hill though, chasing their 5'2 125lb QB around.
Went to Lowe's with my father after that to get some doors. He's replacing the doors to all the bedrooms and bathrooms with heavier ones. The old ones are really cheapy ones. After that, home for more WoW with Josh, who just got back from a weekend of skiing. He's as sore as I am.
Snowed Sunday night, about 8 inches. Most people had the day off for President's Day, but not my sister. She called in, saying she couldn't make it, roads hadn't been plowed. Boss calls her back 15 minutes later, tells her nah, she should come in. She's livid. Oh well, I'll be in bed. Josh comes over like noonish, more gaming and food. Good times. He left around 7pm last night, cuz he has to drive upstate today at 4am to get his grandmother. Sucky trip, 5 hours each way.
That's about that. I bailed on the gym cuz of the snow and laziness. Train's birthday is this coming weekend, so I have a feeling I'll be fireman-carrying someone home this weekend. Not a whole lot left goin on. I finally cleaned up my room last night, put all my clothes away, all my bills and paperwork. Took forever, since I haven't done it in a few weeks.
Now there's a short work week, only 4 days. My boss is out til Friday, I dont know why he didn't just take the whole week. And I've actually got stuff to do for once. Not too shabby. Things are lookin up.
3 weeks. Not too long at all.
Back to the grind.
Friday was cool. Got out of work and decided during the last ten minutes that I wanted to go to happy hour, so me and Jess grabbed 2 guys from the back, Jamie and Eric and went over to Applebees. Once again, happy hour turned into happy night, and we stayed til 9 or so. Pretty funny, they insisted on filling me in about everyone in the office. Pretty funny, some juicy stuff. Went home after that with all intentions of going into Brooklyn with Train. Ended up going home, taking some advil and passing out for a few hours. Woke up, cursed out my headache and played WoW for an hour or two. 3/4 of the way to 58. Woo.
Got up at like 10am or so, more WoW. Screwed around on there all morning, and Merri called me to tell me we're taking the 5:45pm train to Brooklyn to go out tonight. Nice. Rushed myself ready at 4:30, flew out the door, got to Merri's at 5:40. Crud. So she ended up driving in. She's insane with her iPod, so we had plenty of music to listen to on the ride in.
Showed up and Train was cooking turkey burgers. Nice, but now we all smell like meat. Oh well. Had some of those for dinner, sat around and drank for an hour or so. Train downed two 40s, me and Merri had 6 or 7 each. We were happy and good to go.
Took off to a bar call Finn McCools, down the block from Train's apartment. A little dive place where everybody knows your name, y'know? The bartender loves him, so we drank for like 2 hours, and paid $16. Left the guy a $30 tip too. 5 or 6 Guiness for Train, another 6 or 7 Budlight for me and Merri.
Manda called, left a message. I dont think my phone ever rang. Nextel is disappointing me. Went outside and called her back for a few. She now has a place to live, even if it's only for a little longer.
Now, at this point we're pretty hammered. We leave McCools and head towards 3rd Ave, lots more bars and clubs there. We stop at a bodega to get some more beers, and we hear Merri mumble something and go outside. Get the beers, go outside and Merri is gone. So we figure she's been abducted and wait for her to come back. Finish our beers, get another one. Right around the time we finish the second beers, she shows back up. Apparently she had to shit bad enough to interrupt a night of drinking. She tried an indian restaurant and a McD's, and finally found a Duane Reade that was willing to let her use the bathroom, after the managers conferred and let her have the key. She played Dizzy Gillespie on the toilet bowl and stumbled back to us.
Finally regrouped, we head to 3rd Ave. First bar we see is a place called J.J. Bubbles. Apparently Train met a chick there 2 weekends ago, so he says we go in. Long as they have drinks, I'm happy. We go in, order a round. There's a table with some foil pans in it, with tinfoil over them. No idea what they are. Merri looks at the wall and sees a 3 foot wide Pabst Blue Ribbon medal sign. The actual ribbon medal, in metal. She says "ooh, I like that. That's awesome." Train's response? "You like that? OK." *riiiiiip* The screwed in sign gets yanked from the wall, loudly. The bar isn't packed, maybe 15 people in there. Everyone heard it. Now they have to figure out what to do with it.
I get to run interference. Unzip the jacket, start yawning and stretching, big flourishing beer drinking. I'm doing everything a drunk person can do to cause a distraction other than starting a fire on a hobo. Train's idea is to stuff the sign in the back of his pants. Yeah. 3 foot sign, 1 foot waist. "I swear, it'll fit. Just put it in." Right Tom. Merri grabs trhe sign, bends it in half and starts cramming it into his belt, under his shirt, beneath his jacket. Not happening. So of course, Train does what any normal thief would do.
He drops his pants.
Yep, right in the bar, off to the side. Undoes his belt and zipper, drops his pants halfway down his thigh. Now of course, Merri can fit the sign, so she crams away. What she doesn't realize is that when Train pulled the sign off the wall, it bent all the corners where the screws were holding it in place. One loud rip later and one of those corners is straight through the back of Tom's shirt. Oh well. Sign is in the pants, shirt over the top, jacket on top of that.
At this point we realize the bartenders are starting to pool up about 10 feet away from us, and notice that they've been going back and forth to the back room for 10 minutes. Yeah, they're just about ready to toss us all on our asses. So we head towards the door, Tom's doing a Frankenstein walk because of the sign. And of course, we see the trays. Train rips off the foil, sees a tray of chicken wings from their earlier wing bar, grabs one, says "Thanks for the grub!" and walks out the door eating the wing, still with a sign stuffed in his back. Balls on that kid.
We finish up the beers we have, since we weren't at Bubbles long enough to drink the first round, and head further uptown. Find a place called the Salty Dog. Sure, why not. Train insists on going in since there will be "mad bitches there." Nice. Of course, he still has the sign in his back. He says I should take it. Fair enough. We go to the bathroom like a pair of idiots and trade the sign out in the only bathroom stall. Takes me ten minutes, and 2 notches on my belt, but I get the sign in. Now I'm walking like Frankenstein, and getting jabbed in the back by a corner. Now Train decided instead of getting a beer and leaving, we're gonna stay and dance. He's real drunk if he's dancing. And I'm in pain. So I say screw it, go back to the bathroom for the 3rd time in 10 minutes, and leave the sign in the stall. We'll see if it lasts.
The next 2 hours are spent by myself and Merri watching Train try to dance with every girl on the dance floor. Try. I think every single one there turned him down, even the fatties. It was bad. But to give my boy credit, he didn't give up. He just kept movin, right through the ranks. After an hour or so, me and Merri had to go dance with/around him a little bit, just so he wouldn't feel bad. Sadly enough, it was a bad night for women, and Merri was an 8-9 in that place. She got swarmed with guys, me and Train just went off and did our own thing.
Finally decide to leave at like 3:30 in the morning. Head back to the bathroom and sure enough, our sign is right where we left it. Behind the door, against the toilet paper. Score. Stuff the sign back into my pants, duck-walk out and grab a cab back to Train's place. Some turkey burgers and chips, and then we all pass out.
Except Merri. She went downstairs to smoke with a guy in the basement. Then she ran off when he went to the bathroom. Class act, that girl.
Woke up Sunday, like 9ish. Had a game to get to at 1pm at home. Stumbled around Train's place, got dressed and ran for the subway. Walk to the subway station, take the R to Atlantic and then jump on the Flatbush Ave train to Jamaica. Finally get into Ronkonkoma at like 12:45, for a 1:00pm game. Had to call my father to pick me up, since my car is at Merri's house. Drops me off at my car and stops to see my grandmother, his mother, for a while.
Get to the game at like ten after 1, playing another 0-6 team. We drive to the 1yard line and blow it. End up losing the game 14-8. Sigh. I pulled up the fingernail on my middle finger, right hand, on the first play. Blood everywhere. End of the game, get a sack and land on my finger, jammed the hell out of it. It's swollen to the size of two fingers right now, and I can only bed it halfway. Oh and I got elbowed in the forehead too. G had a great tackle, he prettymuch lowered his shoulder into the kid to knock him out of bounds. And Joe the lineman had an interception, and then he ran over the other team's quarterback, just bowled him down. Good physical game. 3 more sacks for me. I felt like Benny Hill though, chasing their 5'2 125lb QB around.
Went to Lowe's with my father after that to get some doors. He's replacing the doors to all the bedrooms and bathrooms with heavier ones. The old ones are really cheapy ones. After that, home for more WoW with Josh, who just got back from a weekend of skiing. He's as sore as I am.
Snowed Sunday night, about 8 inches. Most people had the day off for President's Day, but not my sister. She called in, saying she couldn't make it, roads hadn't been plowed. Boss calls her back 15 minutes later, tells her nah, she should come in. She's livid. Oh well, I'll be in bed. Josh comes over like noonish, more gaming and food. Good times. He left around 7pm last night, cuz he has to drive upstate today at 4am to get his grandmother. Sucky trip, 5 hours each way.
That's about that. I bailed on the gym cuz of the snow and laziness. Train's birthday is this coming weekend, so I have a feeling I'll be fireman-carrying someone home this weekend. Not a whole lot left goin on. I finally cleaned up my room last night, put all my clothes away, all my bills and paperwork. Took forever, since I haven't done it in a few weeks.
Now there's a short work week, only 4 days. My boss is out til Friday, I dont know why he didn't just take the whole week. And I've actually got stuff to do for once. Not too shabby. Things are lookin up.
3 weeks. Not too long at all.
Back to the grind.