Sunday, August 30, 2009
Weekend notes
It's been kind of a busy weekend so far, most of it involving the drinking of adult beverages. I know, hard to believe, huh?

I had to work until midnight on Friday, which usually means my old ass shuffles home directly after, but a couple of coworkers wanted to check out a new place called Zanzabar, so I tagged along.

Later that morning, a group of us were standing outside of the establishment, because apparently if there's anything cooler than going to a new place, it's loitering outside, as if to say "I'm so awesome I don't even have to enter the fucking building."

Of course, with such coolness comes a price: Running into crazy people without the benefit of in-house security. A woman walked up to me and asked me to hold her Pittsburgh Steelers hat while she removed her Pittsburgh Steelers sweatshirt, revealing some sort of Wal-Martish halter top. If she didn't have that hard, squinty look so common among white trash, she could have been a model. Ok, she could have been a model several years ago, but I'm old too so I'm not hatin' on her. At least not for that.

Cleavage shown by someone who might be a little long in the toof is old hat, but then she started talking. She was almost incoherently intoxicated, but we all speak "Drunk" so we understood her perfectly.

"Buy me a drink and I'll show you my boobs," she said to a group of amused/frightened twentysomethings standing by the door. Then she walked up to me, put her arm around me, said something about my height, and repeated her generous boob-for-booze offer.

"From up here I can pretty much see everything you have," I stated.

"Cheater! You're a cheater!" she slurred in response.

A few minutes later she suddenly remembered that the reason she was outside in the first place was because she had just been THROWN OUT of the bar! She didn't say why, probably because she didn't remember, but maybe because she was showing people her tits so they'd buy her drinks??? She pleaded with the guy at the door to let her back in, but he was resistant to her abundant charms.

When people stopped paying attention to her, the boobs came out anyway. She showed them to some guy young enough to be her son and then stumbled off to a bar down the road. There were still people in the Louisville area who hadn't seen her tits, and the night was relatively young.

After that we decided to head over to Nachbar, a stop only notable because we bought spicy beef jerky from an Amish guy at 2:30 in the morning. The man, known locally as "that Amish guy who sells beef jerky", makes the best beef jerky on Earth and sells it at bars to people who, according to his religion, are all hellbound.

He's a nice guy, though. He even told us an Amish joke:

Q: What do you get when you cross an Amish and a redneck?

A: Your horse up on blocks in the front yard.

Saturday was Brew at the Zoo, sponsored in part by our liquor store, so I worked at the event, serving beer to pretty ladies and the assorted male assholes they attract. They brought a lot of us, so we worked on a brilliant "one hour on, one hour off" schedule; meaning we could go around and eat food and sample beer when we weren't working. The weather was amazing, the incredibly large crowd was somewhat douchey but well-behaved, and best of all, I didn't have to see the store on a Saturday.

Today I'm not so lucky. I'm getting ready to go to work.




4 Comments:

What is it with you bro?! I think you have a super power that makes drunk chicks the world over want to show you their fun bags. You need to get a cape.

Blogger yournamehere said...

She was showing them to everyone. There were no super hero powers at work. And they were more like "despair bags" than "fun bags".

Blogger Ćœbermilf said...

Despair bags.

I have "still holding on to hope" bags, but at least I keep them to myself.

Blogger Scarlet Hip said...

I never got past "There were still people in the Louisville area who hadn't seen her tits, and the night was relatively young."

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