Saturday, April 01, 2006

Life is One Quirky Motherfucker

I woke up this morning and just stared at the ceiling for about an hour.

Last night, a bartender was able to guess my age, exactly, on the first try. I didn't think anything of it; the various servers at ----- have made some very strange guesses during my two years in this town.

A bouncer once asked me for THREE forms of ID because he didn't believe I was over 21 - that was flattering.

One bartender - a muscular blonde with gorgeous eyes - once guessed that I was 37. That was not flattering. Not that 37 is old; I'm just not a fan of having someone age me a decade in a few simple words.

I'm generally happy with my age, who I am in the here and now. I didn't think anything of E.'s correct guess. It simply reaffirmed my belief that she is quite possibly the smartest working upperclassman in this town. I always thoroughly enjoy talking with her; she's one of the friendliest folks I've ever met.

After I'd put down my second Labatt mug, I had to hit the head.

----- is notorious for its tiny restrooms. One stall, one urinal. No soap in the dispenser. A towel dispenser that hasn't worked right in years. These two guys had beat me to the relief stations, so I leaned against the wall and waited. Both guys...overgrown fratboys back for some alumni reunion...were chatting away like old ladies a church potluck.

Of course, if old ladies at church suppers were as full of shit as these tools, everybody would be destined for hell.

These two guys were talking about which women out at the bar they were going to try to "score" with that night. Talking about tits and ass, banging, fucking, sucking, ...sprinkled with a few miscellaneous Yo bros spread in between grunts.

This tiny little metrosexual, a cross between the Can You Hear Me Now? Guy and a Smurf, turns his head my way.

"Hey bro...are you hitting that or what? I'd love to tap that shit. Girls like that...need dick."

Who the fuck does this dwarven hipster wannabe think he is? And who the hell did he think he was talking to? For all he knew, E. was my sister, a friend, a lover, a student of mine.

If you've read this site long enough, you probably are aware of the fact that I used to be a bit of a hoodlum in a past life. Certain stupid choices I made in high school are the reason I can no longer close my hands on cold days. I may be more Bertrand Russell these days, but I used maintain more of a Russell Crowe persona back in the day.

This guy was drunk. His friend was drunk. They were drunk when I first sat down at the bar. Rolling a drunk isn't difficult; rolling two is tricky but not impossible. Someone had left a plunger near the can - I could easily get to it before Big Mongo knew what was happening. The little guy would've been an easy out... pump-fake with a right jab, then a left hook...

I don't like violence and senseless violence over some comment only makes me look like an idiot. There is nothing at stake beyond a verbal insult that the person in question would never hear. Guys who talk about hitting that in a bar bathroom rarely hit anything beyond the palm of their hands at the end of the night.

The tiny guy moved over to wash his hands, freeing up the urinal. I thought about accidentally missing the head - the guy probably wouldn't have noticed.

Then he started talking about his sweet ride. On and on while he washed up about his new sports car. (Who was this guy? A heart surgeon? He spent about 2 minutes scrubbing his arms.) At 33 years old, the guy had finally talked Mom and Dad into hooking him up with a ride of his very own.

I finished up, went back out to the bar, and ordered another tall, cold Labatt. Chatted with E. a little while longer until business picked up, then narrowly escaped a conversation about frontier justice with a very nice biker. After I left the bar, I realized I had to make another pit stop.

I could've made it home. Could've gone back to the bar.

But I noticed this car...a nifty little convertible that matched the description I'd just heard in the restroom, with plates that matched Metrosexual Mini-Me's home state. Who leaves the top down on a convertible on a rainy night? Next to a bar? Illegally parked...

Fate is a real bastard sometimes. One cheeky, evil bastard.

I've never owned a vehicle with black leather upholstery. I don't know the first thing about, say, getting the urine smell out of leather seats or leather-covered dashboards or...

* * *

For some reason, I was thinking about that this morning while staring at the ceiling. I was grinning for some reason. I don't know why. I guess I was feeling a little...hmmm... relieved.

Maybe I'm not as old as I feel sometimes. Or as mature. Or as wise.

Maybe none of that matters first thing in the morning.


Bob Patterson said...

Yes, every now and again I still find myself doing something stupid just to prove that I'm not too old. It's the Johnny Cash or John Mellencamp "fuck you" authority sydnrome.

Those that do not suffer from this afflication see it as immature. However, those that have the disease still have to tilt at windmills just because the windmill is there.

Back in the day I would have pissed all over his steering wheel, vents, and dash but that's just me.

Oh well. He'll get over it.



Let said...

If it makes you feel better, I wouldn't have guess a day over 25.

The ZenFo Pro said...

You know, that's how I felt. I actually debated posting this for about three hours last night. Two things changed my mind...reading Cooper's BIO post about the Rape Culture in College Communities and running into a male student, very decent member of the local Jewish frat who I know loathes the reputation some of the secular frats have created.

Somebody has to kick the lights out at the Grand Ol' Opry...;)

E., in addition to being a very nice person, is one of the few people in this town I actually feel comfortable talking about this site v. the real-world me. Last week, I'm having to coordinate a few big projects whilst somehow finding the time to deal with the fallout from my Seattle shootings posts. I appreciate someone taking the time to let me let off some steam. She has never visited this blog before; she now has the URL.

E.'s a nice girl. I left a $5 tip on a $9 check simply because I'd forgotten how many assholes she has to deal with. The girl has a boyfriend, yet I appear to be one of the few guys anymore who seems to remember that female bartenders flirt to make money, not to put out.

Thanks...not that the two years really matters :)

shayna said...

Ha... love it... the ending... LOVE IT!!! "urine smell out of leather"... :)

Alice: In Wonderland or Not said...

Can I just say are definitely 27.

Miz BoheMia said...

Ha, ha, haaaa! Pee-pee-licious! Ooooweeee!

Most men, unfortunately (and I don't know why) are chicken shits when it comes to standing up for a woman.

Once, through this bitch I used to party with called N, I met Y who was half-German-half-Iranian and me being half-Danish-half-Iranian hit off great with Y. N was horrible to Y whom she had invited over.

Iran is shit for women and Y reeaaally needed to unwind and one night when we went out she got hammered. So much so that 2 Norwegian guys tried to simply take her away as she was at the point where she would say no to nothing! I grabbed her and in her drunken state she clumsily tried to fight me off to go with those assholes.

No man helped me fight off these guys who were blatanly trying to take my friend god knows where. N kept telling me to let them take care because she didn't want them to follow her or know which one was her car!

I may be short and petite but holding on to Y with one arm and kicking and fighting off the guys with my body's other half and using my loud voice I won and got that bitch N to pull her car up and left with Y who was thankful to the point of tears the next day... Had she not been in my arms I would have loved to have somehow beaten the shit out of those guys and N!

Pee away amigo! It is much appreciated!

Miz BoheMia said...

Ooops! "take care" is meant to be "take her"

bell said...

Well done ZFP. LOL and big smiles on this side.

Smurf said...

lol... way to go J!!!

Let said...

Hey, two years is two years. I'd love for someone to mistake me for a 29-year old!

Smurf said...

Well, also my sister at 27 she went into a 7-Eleven to get cigarettes and they wouldnt sell them to her because they didnt think she looked old enough to purchase cigarettes. (Now keep in mind this was before the whole you have to look less than 26 or 30 like it is now...) Well, since she didnt have her ID she went out to the car and told my mom and my mom went into the store to get them for her and the clerk REFUSED to sell them to my MOM because the clerk said that they couldnt sell them knowing my mom was contributing to the deliquency of minors... so my mom said, "honey, get me your manager, my daughter is 27 years old and she wants a pack of cigarettes and she is old enough to decide if she can smoke them or not." They got the manager. The manager was appologetic and sold them to my mom. But that happened to my mom when also when she was married and traveling cross country with my dad, he had the IDs in his car, my mom got pulled over by a police officer because he didnt think she looked old enough to be driving and she was like 27 as well. My dad kept driving and eventually came back and showed the cop that my mom was who she said she was and the age she said she was.. its amazing how looks can be deceiving and misread isnt it?

Cowgirl said...

Bartending and flirting go hand in hand. That's the way to really make some killer cash. LOVED bartending.

I get carded all the time, especially if I wear my hair in braids like Heidi. But then again I am only going to be 25.

I just have to say props to you for pissing on his car. I would have had it towed.

bell said...

I forgot to add the age piece. I am 35 years old and get carded often enough surprisingly. I always feel like saying thank you. I am always surprised that someone could mistake me for being 14 years younger than I really am. But, then of course there are the times when the clerk is just being an annoying asshole out for some strange bit of control in an interaction with a customer… that’s another story though.

Kate said...

haha! I know where you drink, silly boy! i had a class with Amy who used to work there but I think she quit. Lol wish you were at Pachinkos this weekend pissing in this one guy's car. i hate assholes.
Thanks for bein nice to me sunday and explaining your "rules" lol.

kate said...

oh and you're 27??? You're lying. you couldn't be over 24. i get carded everywhere but i think that's just because i'm a girl.

The ZenFo Pro said...

Oh lord...see...this is what happens when work gets in the way of blogging. Damn you, job ;)

Yeah, trying to get creative to avoid saying anything too damning ;)

I hope that was meant as a compliment. ;)

Thanks for sharing the story. Its nice to know I'm not the only one who has a low tolerance for assholes. I've had a chance to talk to a few local folks who thought I was justified, so I only hope I don't get the bartender in trouble.

Can you imagine the headline in a smalll rural Ohio newspaper? Librarian Lets Loose on

Hey, thanks :)

Alright. Now I don't feel so bad :)

Lol...what is it with women hitting 30? Chica, you look 25.

Hey, I used to have this nasty habit of dating house dancers (ie. strippers)...flirting paid my rent for a while ;)

Yeah, I'll admit I do get a bit excited getting carded...unless I'm with older coworkers. Then I'm the butt of jokes...

The ZenFo Pro said...

PART 2...

I don't know why some clerks do that...esp. at liquor stores. I had a guy in Indiana ID me when I ordered a Don Julio and many underage drinkers would actually order top-shelf tequila? C'mon. Sometimes, its okay. Sometimes, yeah, its annoying.

No problem, hon. Did you expect me to be an asshole in person?!? If so, don't sweat it. I seem to get that a lot...

Now that I've heard your Pachinkos story in person, yeah. Don't drink there. Its like the Stadium...seriously, I've heard way too many horror stories from that place.

Nope. Really 27. Thanks for the compliment, though. They do tend to card female students more than guys. Hint - old bouncer trick to get a girl's name.

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