Tuesday, July 15, 2008

Coming back to work sucks

I took a long weekend and now getting back to work has been pretty hard. I don’t know if you have heard of these things called rum runners but holy shit are they a kick in the pants. When I got to the bar on Friday I was told if I had a tab that was over twenty five dollars that my parking would be validated. Shrewd move on there part, but the problem is that I don’t eat food unless I have killed it with my bare hands or ripped it from the earth myself. Do you have a hard on after hearing that? I do. Anyways, due to my position on food I was left to a strictly liquid diet. Therefore, I would like to give you a drink by drink examination of getting my parking validated.

Drink one – Oh this tastes good. It’s like an adult slurpee, and would you look at all the rum that they put on top for you. A little umbrella too!! I think I may have to try another one of these.

Drink two – Holy shit my brain hurts. Do they put ice from Antarctica in these things? I mean my head seriously hurts right now. I should probably have one more just to make sure that it is not the drink that is giving me this splitting headache.

Drink three – No longer have any pain in my head. Obviously it wasn’t the drink that was making me feel that way. Although I am now noticing that people are starting to make sure I don’t fall over on them. Can’t they see that I am just dancing to the oldies cover band?

Drink four – I just had a conversation with one of the security personnel. I don’t know what the word 86’d means, but he said it quite a few time. I have never seen someone’s face turn that shade of burgundy when they are talking to you but I don’t think they are happy.

Drink five – Good news, I just got my parking validated. Bad news, I pissed myself and that guy is walking over this way to talk with me again. His face is now crimson.

Drink six – I had to take this one in the bathroom because a bunch of these jerks keep trying to talk to me about something or other. I bet they just want to have a sip of my drink. Guess what? They aren’t getting none of it. Nones I tell you.

Drink seven – whas the problem ya jerk. I only hads twose of those…..how come my parking valimated zen? I donut know. Maybe this was yur plan all along assface.

I am not sure how the rest of the evening turned out but I stayed in a lovely little 6X6 room. It didn’t have cable but at least when I got to my car the next morning my parking had been taken care of. Now the only thing I have to worry about are the lawsuits.

1 comment:

Mickey said...

One of life's simple pleasures, God's gift to man, the Rum Runner. Nothing says fun like waking up the next day with a Hawaiian shirt twisted around your torso, afraid to move cause your heads pounding like a jackhammer, sporting a code-red sunburn and an orange tongue.

The cure? You need to ask? Another Rum Runner. Meet ya at the Beacon.