Saturday, February 9, 2008

we are bad people, but i didn't know...

I was out with Steve and some other friends last night. We were sitting around a table at a bar/pub/tavern type place. It was a good time, and, whenever I consider a get together a good time, it's usually because people are talking about stupid stuff.
Man I love to talk about stupid stuff. In case you've never read what I write about before.
Last night, the conversation was really all over the place. We were talking about raves at Rocky Point, and who might or might not have taken E or X, and who is "straight-edge" and what the definition of "strait-edge" actually is.
People were talking about the crazy people they work with and the dopey things they do.
We talked about the fellow who had built an authentic recreation of a hard-core 80's arcade and whether it was worth the time and effort or not. I'm still not sure how someone could come out not in favor and support of the dude who built the arcade, but whatever.
Steve told a truly excellent story about when he had to replace a bumper on an old car of his. A faithful reader of the NB asked if someone had bumped into him in the Dunkin' Donuts drive-thru because he stopped short a lot. I love call-backs.
So, Steve is told by a junkyard dude to follow another junkyard dude out to where they keep all the bumpers in the junkyard and Steve begins to follow.
As they are walking through the piles of crap, the fellow leading Steve reaches out to what sounded to my mind like a outreaching length of thin rebar and says, "Watch out for this, it got my eye the other day." and keeps walking.
Steve has time to think, "Oh. That sounds like it sucks. I'll watch out for that." Then the guy turns around to face him for the first time and had clearly, recently, actually, had his eye ripped out by something. If it was the outreaching length of whatever that had done it is unknown. It is likely the guy was messing with him, but it's not entirely clear if he was or not.
That led the conversation to fake eyeballs. Jenn says she would like to buy a collection of fake eyeballs and knows where to get some on the E-Bay. Those fake-eyeballs sure would look nice scattered around the severed head of Walt Disney we now have in the living room. I'll show you a picture of that later.
Steve then says he knows a guy with a fake eye who likes to make bets with people at bars. While watching a sporting event, he'll say, "I'll bet my left eye against your left testicle that so-and-so doesn't do such-and-such on the next what-have-you."
When so-and-so doesn't do such-and-such he pulls out his fake eye and slams in on the bar going, "DAMN IT!"
This freaks people out.
I said someday he would meet his match and the person he was talking to would pull out a testicle and say, "You're ON! I don't care! I've got four more!"
It was a silly joke that elicited silly laughter. It didn't make any sense at all. I'm not proud, as I've said.
Now, as I am unable to not see what is going on around me, I notice the next table over starting to get tense. Well, the table itself was not tense as it had just received a sizable tax return, but the people sitting around the table were.
They were a somewhat older crowd, but were all wearing P-Bruins shirts and hats. Clearly, they had just come from a hockey game.
I kept seeing furtive little glances towards us, but I could not hear what they were saying.
I convinced myself that I was being paranoid, because our conversation was innocuous and, if I'm remembering correctly, mostly void of profanity. As we continued talking, I was going back through my head what might have been bad enough to cause anyone to even blink.
Maybe the fake testicle reference...
But, we were in a BAR, for God's sake...
I'm just seeing things that aren't really there and making connections where there are none.
Someone who shall remain nameless spoke about how she had to tell off a nun today. Or, maybe it was me who brought up the fact that someone who shall remain nameless told off a nun today.
Okay. I brought it up.
Je... The person who told off the nun told me to not talk about it because they were concerned about offending someone.
I said, who? All the nuns running around in here?
Earlier, I had been reprimanded for doing the r-tard voice. Might be a facadecast coming up featuring the r-tard voice... Hmm...
In any case, I said it would be a lot more offensive if I spoke like a nun who was also an r-tard, but kept myself from actually doing what that might sound like, because I noticed the activity level of the next table over starting to increase. It was like watching Jiffy Pop pop. It starts real slow, but then you cross a temperature line and the activity becomes a flurry.
We hadn't crossed the temperature line, yet.
Now, I claim that I don't care what people think, and for the most part, I don't, but I don't really want to offend anyone or really make anyone feel bad. Honestly, I don't.
I was just about to say, even though I didn't think that we were saying anything really wrong, that we should cease our line of conversation when M describes a large r-tard nun was a smaller r-tard nun riding on her back, like Master Blaster from Thunderdome.



I don't have time to reflect on how funny an image that is because a gentleman at the next table over then said, "Oh COME ON!" while slamming his hands on the table.
I will present to you an audio file of what it sounded like, because I'm not really doing it justice. I just don't have the bandwidth right this second. I know you can't wait.
That was the temperature line. That was the absolute end of what they could tolerate from us. We offended them to the cores of their spirit and they had no choice but to remove themselves from the situation.
They kept looking at us as they stormed out in a huff like they wanted to say something. I'm not the friendliest looking individual on the planet and Steve and M are really large, so I guess they figured they would just talk about us behind our backs.
It was probably for the best.
I ended up feeling bad, but confused by them. I worked it out for myself by making fun of them for an hour.
I feel better now.

3 comments:

Johnny said...

dude,

what fricking bar were you at, was it just you and the the other table. Most bars I go to, which is like a once a year occurence, it's so loud that you can't hear the conversation at your own table.

maybe this question was answered in the post, but it was long and I think I fell asleep.

anyway, screw them, you should have told them to well you know and then put your fist through the white board...

hehehehehe

- johnny

Stove said...

Look over blaster's right shoulder.

It's a ghost!!!!

mister swarvey said...

Boooooo!!

Ha, ha! I got you again!