Saturday, June 7, 2008

Saturday Running Diary (Hooters Week)

*That's me with some classy hookers... Okay, I'm just kidding. That guy is much better looking than me.

(As per usual I've blown a single day (Sat) way out of proportion and it was basically a disappointment, although there was some hilarity I'll share with you.)

11:30 PM: Wake up. Groan at the thought of another day of existence even though it's Saturday and I don't have to work. I field a call from my best buddy and cohort, who wants to move the time up to Noon from our originally scheduled 1 PM meeting time. We agree on 12:30 and I hit the shower.

12:15: I write a stupid blog post, complaining about drinking at Hooters with friends. What a pussy (myself, I mean...)

12:35: Walk into local Hooters. As I see my buddy and walk up to our table the first pitcher of Bud Light arrives. They're on special for 8.99. Some fucking special.

12:40: See our beautiful Russian waitress from last Saturday. She comes up and wants to know the nights I work downtown. I tell her and all of a sudden, life is good. Meanwhile, our new waitress from today is a complete and utter retard (I won't name names though), and I wonder how easy it would be to for me to get in her pants. (My buddy and I come to conclusion that it would be rediculously easy.)

1:15: We're two pitchers deep and our other friends start to filter in. Someone we know from middle school is sitting behind us and he keeps prattling on about some stupid basketball league we were all in a few months ago. I briefly consider slamming a half full pitcher on the back of his head. Judgement gets the better of me though.

1:30: The third pitcher is ordered and the voice level at the table is about 3 octaves higher from when we arrived. We eat their "Daytona Grilled" wings for lunch. (As of this writing, my shit is Tenn. Volunteer orange....and not in a good way.)

2:00: The gambling begins. The entire table (6 of us now) begins betting on how long it will take for our next two pitchers to arrive. I have 3 minutes in the pool and around the 2 minute mark I get up and try to influence the bet by meeting the retard waitress by the bar. It works! But I actually get her to arrive about 15 seconds to early and I lose the bet by a hair. After the first bet, our entire table begins making crazy prop bets and some ill-advised sport bets. (I took the field v. Big Brown on multiple bets for the Belmont..... although I'm sure I'll never see a dime from my cheap ass friends. See ya at the glue factory Big Brown!)

2:30: We are drunk. (Seriously, we have no self-control.)

2:45: We start yelling for our Russian waitress in voices that can only be described as "similar to the Russian General/Villain (Ouramov) in the first Pierce Brosnan installment of Bond; Goldeneye." Translation: We are being very obnoxious, very drunk and basically insulting the great nation of Russia, or what we are now lovingly referring to as, "The Eastern Bloc."

3:00 : We start playing a mutated version of flip-cup, in Hooters, much to the managers dismay. I lose 11 dollars due to my suddenly decreased chugging ability!? What the fuck?

3:45: We're on pitcher number 12 (they're six of us at the table). The manager at Hooters is now blatently staring at us from about 15 feet away. I wonder why they don't have bouncers at Hooters? They probably have tasers in lieu of manpower, which sort of scares me.

4:15: I ask for the check as I have a cookout to attend (My bar owners birthday cookout...details forthcoming). The check comes to 170. It takes about 20 minutes for us to figure out how to settle up. My buddy and I get stuck for most of it (No fucking surprise there.) Our waitress was slightly less attentive than an ADD riddled 6 year old, but I can't really blame her. I would be the same way if I had to deal with a table full of immature twentysomethings. Her name is (redacted) and she works on Saturday days. Heres to her getting fired or at least sternly reprimanded!!!! (I'm joking. It's one freakin trip to a restaurant! Not really anything meaningful in the grand scheme of things.... No offense IWICC :)

4:30: Stop by 7-11 to get my boss something for his birthday. I settle on 7 dollars worth of scratch off tickets (I wrapped his presents in a plastic bag).

5:00: I get to the cook out. I'm drunk. They're kids and families there. It's not a good combination for me. I spend the next hour trying to keep my mouth shut and not say anything to outrageous. I see friends from the bar where I work. We take shots. I'm the youngest person there other than my bosses 2 and 4 year olds. I seriously consider going out to the back yard and hitting the slip and slide with my bosses kids ( They had some sort of Moon-walk/ slip and slide gigantic structure in the back yard...Much more advanced than the plastic mat and sprinkler head combo that I used to rock.)

5:30: I make Smirnoff Razz and Coke Zero cocktails for people. (I think I'm some sort of bartender, although who can be sure at this point.)

5:45: I'm smoking cigarettes on the back deck even though I don't smoke. I try to look cool while I'm smoking... To no ones surprise, I look like an idiot.

6:00: I convince some rich guy to go in with me on a bet against some other rich guy. I take Big Brown vs. Field at 4 to 1. (I know this goes against my prior bets....what can I say? I was drunk.)

6:20: Big Brown pulls up lame and my rich backer has to write a check for 80 bucks. I laugh and I watch money I lost, exchange hands at no loss to myself, of course.


The rest of the day is black out. I sleep.

Addendum: As of this writing (1: 50 AM Sat/Sun), I did not have to remember to wear a condom (check last posting). In fact I would consider it a bit silly to wear a condom when I'm completely by myself...

ugh. You can't win em all.....


Anonymous said...

You might want to start wearing condoms around the house to protect you from yourself.

iwishicouldcook said...

Ha! You'll have to let me in on where you work, so I can come in and then post about this asshole bartender [name withheld] who think Hooters is awesome and can't bet worth s---. :)

Jack Goes Forth said...

Email me. I'll make that bitch from Can Can look like Mother Theresa...

Hater said...

You call yourself a drunken womanizer?

Alone at 2 AM on a Saturday?

Shame on you for giving drunken womanizers everywhere a bad name!

Jephy said...

Funniest post yet, and there have been many of them.