A few months back, Greg and I decided to have a glass of wine after a show...free tickets, mind you, so we thought the was wine justi....
[Right now I am trying to write a blog at the end of a long work day...week. My brain is mush and there are a lot...A LOT...of horns honking right outside the building. Like a horn symphony... - people wanna go home...back to Jersey...TGIF - I can't think straight to type the funny story about the drunk dude at the bar a few months back...my sole purpose for opening up this template was to make fun of the mush brain trying to pick up the bartender...takes one to know one...]
...fied. [Honking stopped after my rant.] The bar was almost empty except for two men sitting at the bar with two stools between them. One was extremely metrosexual and one was wasted-face frat man. Both were trying to win the favor of the pretty, blonde bartender [Shelly Long], who clearly was there to work and clearly not interested except for maybe an extra smile tossed in for good-tip measure.
Frasier vs. DEERUNK Norm.
After the third time we saw Norm pace the length of the restaurant, 'Diane' came over and explained that "he likes to take walks". We smiled at her sympathetically.
Frasier uneventfully gave up and walked out the door leaving Norm at one end of the bar with Greg and I at the other.
I accidentally caught Slobber Bobs eye the one time he lifted his chin from his chest. He wobbled over and made some small talk. Some of it pretty self deprecating and some of it obviously trying to impress 'Diane'.
He asked to pay our tab.
Greg and I looked at each other.
Do you give back the extra change the cashier hands you? Do you call out to the woman who dropped cash out of her back pocket on the street? Do you point out the miss-swipe of the toilet brush and into the shopping bag?
Yes. You do.
We told him no, and thanks, and no thanks, and thanks, but no thanks. But he WOULD NOT HEAR OF IT. We warned him of the regrets he'd have in the morning when he woke up and reached for the aspirin and the trash can. He wouldn't have it. 'Diane' had to understand that he was a gracious big spender.
Four glasses of wine. Splurged.
Almost immediately after the transaction. He walked to the edge of the bar and wiggled his finger, beckoning Diane to his side. He leaned over and all mushy-mouth and whispery-loud asked her out. When she refused he asked why. When she explained she was seeing someone he wanted to know who. When she said she just wasn't interested he swayed backwards and said:
CAN I GIVE YOU MY CAR FOR A WEEK AND A HALF?
[I, of course, grabbed my phone and typed this statement in my notes and emailed it to myself.]
The three of us looked at the floor. She asked him what he meant and he mumbled like he was embarrassed, waved her off and, knocking over his stool as he went by, walked out the door.
I've been working on a tedious project at work that makes my brain feel like it is trapped in a little tunnel. I can completely understand statements like these. So. If I show up drunk at work tomorrow, maybe I will start to make sense to myself.