This past Sunday I met a few coworkers at my favorite brewpub. Everything was going as planned; I was drinking a delicious nitro porter and eating a bison burger when something. went. terribly. wrong.
One of my coworkers, out of the fucking blue, brought a hippie with him. Yeah, I was hippie-rushed. Although she was a damn hippie, at least she wasn't the dreaded Damn Dirty Hippie; because she didn't reek of patchouli or have filthy, matted cornrows. Maybe I got lucky and caught her on the one day of the calendar month she introduced water to her pits and groins, I don't know.
But just because my olfactory senses weren't funk-fucked doesn't mean she wasn't a hippie. Her dainty dress from the Laura Ingalls-Wilder collection at Sears gave her away, as did her enthusiasm for an upcoming Phish reunion tour.
Is it wrong that I pray for the Phish tour bus to explode in a way that makes the space shuttle Challenger disaster look like the neighborhood half-wit running down the street with a sparkler sticking out of his ass? Nobody who's ever held a job that didn't involve selling falafel wraps out of a tent would miss those noodling shit stains.
Despite the unwanted guest's objectionable taste in music, I was still managing to enjoy myself, because I'm nothing if not the picture of tolerance. If the beer is good, and it was, I can sit next to almost any society-draining layabout and pretend I don't want to replace her hacky sack with a live grenade. But then, when we were leaving the bar, she did it. She went all Hippie Hiroshima on my ass. As I was walking away from her she yelled out "Have a Grateful Day."
"Have a Grateful Day." She dropped a Grateful Dead pun on my fucking head. Jesus, couldn't the hippie just spout off an insincere "Have a nice day" like the rest of us? Did she have to reference the worst, smelliest band in the history of record music? SON OF A BITCH! It ruined my day, is what it did. I almost disabled the air bag and ran my car into a majestic oak just to get the sound of "Have a Grateful Day" out of my head.
The older I get, the more I realize there's something to be said for being a recluse.
One of my coworkers, out of the fucking blue, brought a hippie with him. Yeah, I was hippie-rushed. Although she was a damn hippie, at least she wasn't the dreaded Damn Dirty Hippie; because she didn't reek of patchouli or have filthy, matted cornrows. Maybe I got lucky and caught her on the one day of the calendar month she introduced water to her pits and groins, I don't know.
But just because my olfactory senses weren't funk-fucked doesn't mean she wasn't a hippie. Her dainty dress from the Laura Ingalls-Wilder collection at Sears gave her away, as did her enthusiasm for an upcoming Phish reunion tour.
Is it wrong that I pray for the Phish tour bus to explode in a way that makes the space shuttle Challenger disaster look like the neighborhood half-wit running down the street with a sparkler sticking out of his ass? Nobody who's ever held a job that didn't involve selling falafel wraps out of a tent would miss those noodling shit stains.
Despite the unwanted guest's objectionable taste in music, I was still managing to enjoy myself, because I'm nothing if not the picture of tolerance. If the beer is good, and it was, I can sit next to almost any society-draining layabout and pretend I don't want to replace her hacky sack with a live grenade. But then, when we were leaving the bar, she did it. She went all Hippie Hiroshima on my ass. As I was walking away from her she yelled out "Have a Grateful Day."
"Have a Grateful Day." She dropped a Grateful Dead pun on my fucking head. Jesus, couldn't the hippie just spout off an insincere "Have a nice day" like the rest of us? Did she have to reference the worst, smelliest band in the history of record music? SON OF A BITCH! It ruined my day, is what it did. I almost disabled the air bag and ran my car into a majestic oak just to get the sound of "Have a Grateful Day" out of my head.
The older I get, the more I realize there's something to be said for being a recluse.
12 Comments:
God I hate hippies. Almost as much as you or Eric Cartman.
I can't believe a hippie would spring for a quality beer. What am I thinking, I'm sure she didn't pay, right?
Don't ever hurt yourself over a hippie's actions. Instead, turn it on them. I prefer to give them a running haymaker instead.
She should actually visit the Laura Ingalls Wilder House here in the Ozarks. Nothing hippie about it. Hell, Laura Bush recently visited. As you might expect, her wardrobe blended in perfectly with the quilts.
Having seen how hippies "raise" their children, I have no defense for them.
If your "freedom" comes at the expense of others, you need to temper it with some responsibility.
Also, you smell.
I think we should douse all their sunflower loving asses with pesticide. hehehehe
I happen to like falafels.
My ex brother-in-law gave my older son a stupid book by Bob Weir when he was a toddler. Bob. Weir. Around. my. child. I think I hid it. My ex probably has it displayed prominently in his room now.
I hate the Grateful Dead.
Might I note, for the first time, VRWC and all of us are in agreement? I think this might be a historic moment.
Miracles do happen!
have a grateful day? people really say that?
"Bugs in their hair no shoes on their feet
So what if Jerry's dead this wheat grass still tastes neat
Draw another picture then do another line
Sit around & talk about Phish just waste more of my time"
--Yer Mom
Q: What did the Deadhead say when the drugs wore off?
A: "God, this music SUCKS!
Q: How many Deadheads does it take to change a lightbulb?
A: None. They just watch the old one burn out and follow it around for a few years.
Q: Where do you hide your stash so that its safe from a Deadhead?
A: In the soap dish.
In defense of hippies, I must say that the Cherry Garcia flavor from Ben & Jerry's is extremely tasty.
alas, i'm dating a deadhead, thankfully he's not a damn dirty hippie - he works, bathes and pays for stuff. and i agree with every last one of you.
It's like Carville and Matalin in my house.
Love the jokes Johnny...i needed some new ammo.
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