How's About Your Night?

I'm gonna warn you in advance, this blog will contain an insane (for me) amount of expletives.  If you are squeemish about such things, grow the fuck up!

So, wow, I'm the most pissed I have been in probably over a decade.

"Why," you ask.

Well, I'll tell ya.

I went to work today.  That went okay.  Supervisor talks too much. 

Went to Santana's in P.B.  That was okay.  Not as good as Hillcrest.

Went to the Strip in P.B. That's what I call it anyway.  Everywhere's packed.  Except Moondoggy's.  So Butch and I went in.  Things were going well; as well as they can for a guy who neither drinks nor dances.  I had a nice table where I could mind my own and be quiet amongst the people.

Then two pretty little blonde-haired white girls ask to sit at my table.

I should have seen that this was the sign of Apocalypse.

Next thing you know, there are about 8 military lookin' dudes circling the table.  The girls get up and go use the bathroom.  One of the dudes puts one of hisTWO drinks down.  Minutes pass.  Dude picks up one of his drinks and...

SPILLS the ENTIRE FUCKING DRINK into MY ENTIRE FUCKING LAP!!!  I'm not even joking, the whole fucking thing.  I am pissed beyond words at this point.  I'm also in shock, afterall my giblets are now all cold and soggy.

And the dudes reaction is: "Dude, what are you drinking?  I'll buy you another."

You couldn't buy enough drinks to last a FUCKING lifetime to make up for this,ASSHOLE.

I yell, "JUST GET ME NAPKINS!!!"

He stumbles over and gets me a handful.  It's clear that this won't even begin to cover it.

"What are you drinkin', man?  I'll buy you another," Jerkwad continues.

"Coke, but just get me more napkins," I repeat.  I'm remaining rather calm considering the circumstances.  Violence is rarely my first instinct.  I'm beginning to re-think that policy.

"Let me buy you another drink, man.  I'm in the military so I take care of my people," he slobbers.

It figures they let this "man" hold a gun but he can't even hold a glass.

"JUST GET ME MORE FUCKING NAPKINS!" I reiterate.

And the heartless fucking bastard doesn't even do that.  I guess he figures if he can't buy me a free drink then clearly I am asking for too much.

The fuckhole hovers around a little while longer and then decides that he's too cool to walk around to the dancefloor and climbs over the tables next to me.  As he climbs back, with drink in hand, he spills some of it on my arm.

I am furious.  I do what I can with what napkins the pigfucker gave me.  Butch brings me some more once he is alerted to the situation.  It's clear to me that I'm done for the night.  I've got wet spots all over my jeans, with special attention paid to my "crotch area."  I shake my head in disgust as the bar is closing and I bolt out the doors.  Not only that, but I gotta walk ALL THE WAY back to my car through the alley or else face further embarassment.

Now, I've never wished harm on a member of the armed forces before, but I hope that someday soon this knitcap wearing PIECE OF SHIT dies in a friendly fire incident.  Better yet, I hope HIS DICK (if such a thing exists) is BITTEN OFFby a MONGOOSE.

The nerve.  FUCKIN' COCKSMOKIN' HOPELESS DRUNK ASS MOTHERFUCKER.  Go die in a fire!

So the question remains, How's about your night?