Twisted Sister
I can't believe it's almost Saturday. An entire week has managed to sneak by, right beneath my nose.
Monday night, after watching Paige, I got a call from this girl named Amy. Remember her? From Carl's riotous graduation party a few weeks back. Anyway, we have a mutual friend in Jamie, a co-worker of mine. Evidently Jamie gave Amy my number, and she decided to use it.
We talked for about an hour and a half and really hit it off. We had so much in common it was almost eery. Towards the end of the conversation I had her eating out of my palm. She asked if I wanted to hang out the next day, and, of course, I agreed. The following night she picked me up after work and took me to Jaime's.
We had a great conversation on the ride there, and we discovered we both smoke like chimneys and drink the same beer, Bud Light (so many chicks these days drink Mich Ultra that I just want to shove a nice thick lager down their throats).
When we arrived we were sitting on the same couch. Jamie cooked a spicy chicken tortilla dip that was just too hot for me to eat, but Amy, Jamie, and Derrick (Jamie's man), took that shit home and ate every last bit. By the end of the night, Amy was on the other couch next to Jamie and rubbing her stomach like a pregnant woman soothing an unborn child. I had nailed back six or seven beers by then, and I was feeling a little buzzed. Amy started complaining about an upset stomach and wanted to go home. I was just getting ready to party by then, but she was my ride back to Xenia. Another friend, Claire, showed up, and Amy took the opportunity to bow out and leave.
I stumbled behind her. When we got into the car, I made a major mistake. "Well," I said drunkenly, "I don't know 'bout you, but I still feel somethin'."
There was an uncomortable pause, and Amy came back with, "Yeah... Well... I don't know..."
In less then half a second, the girl popped every balloon, pissed in every bowl of corn flakes, and rained on every parade.
What?! What?!?! Where did it go wrong? Where did I jump the unfathomable abyss from Potential to Friend? I wasn't THAT drunk. I hadn't made THAT much a fool of myself. Maybe my vivid description of last week's Paris Hilton episode of South Park turned her off. I'm a born actor, I love to perform in front of people. It coulda been the squishy sound-effects I made.
Or it coulda been my drunken explanation of why Leif Ericsson named Iceland, "Iceland", and Greenland, "Greenland". Because he wanted to trick those poor bastards into sailing to Greenland, which was nothing but ice, instead of sailing to Iceland, which was nothing but green pastures.
Or it could be because I'm 5'5", 120 lbs, pale as a fish's belly, and bald.
Or it could be a fatal mixture of all three.
Either way, she didn't bite, and when she dropped me off at home, we parted with a simple hug and "goodnight". We haven't spoken since then.
Last night was probably the funnest night I've had at Outback Steakhouse since I started in February.
I was sectioned in the lounge, and around 8:30 PM a few guys showed up and sat at our community tables (two rectangular 10-person tables that run parrallel to the bar). They were harbingers of a 16-person party. I brought them their beers and attended my other tables. By 9:00 PM all sixteen of them had shown up. They were a rowdy lot, loud, obnoxious, obviously drunk before they came in. They started ordering drinks from the bar. I knew from the look of them that wading in to take orders would be an exercise in chaos theory. I let the bartenders handle 'em.
By 9:30 they were ready to order. It was a business dinner, a boss taking his employees out to celebrate a lucrative season. And boy, did they ass-rape this poor MF. 16-ounce prime ribs, add-on crab legs, combo shrimp, filets, porterhouses, mushrooms, onions, melted bleu cheese, extra veggies, the works... Not to mention two tickets worth of booze. Outback Steakhouse was the Miraculous Pitcher, never ending, always full...
There was a brief lull, and I was flirting with some of the girls when a server came onto the back line and shouted, "Where's a manager? There's about to be a fight at the bar!"
Instantly, every Outbacker rushed to the bar. There was a crowd of people watching. Two guys were chest-to-chest. And lo and behold, they were from my party in the lounge! Suddenly Robbie, our proprietor, was between them. Things calmed down, but all the servers were watching to see if something else developed. Robbie had to shoo them away with a generic police-line, like, "Go on, there's nothin' ta see here".
Sure enough, five minutes later, the two guys were at it again. This time one of them tried to throw a punch. Someone said it started over a fork; I don't know. But I do know that Robbie escorted three of them outside and insisted on their taking a cab home. It was either a ride in a cab or a patrol car; it was up to them. Everyone else was Cut Off... No more drinks from the bar.
Later on I found out the checks were all on one bill. I let out a sigh of relief, because their bill was up to around $600 and there was no way on God's green earth I was going to be able to separate that shit. I also thanked God because the gratuity was going to be through the roof, too... And when I found that out, I let them do whatever the hell they wanted.
"Let 'em tear the tables off the floor. They can hurl a barstool through the window for all I care. I'm grat'in' their asses."
I could see their boss physically balk when I dropped off the check. "Are you sure this is right? This includes our bar tab, right?"
"Yes, sir," and I walked off to refill drinks on another table.
Their gratuity came to $77. I ran the boss's credit card and he tipped me another $10 on top of that. $87 dollars for 2 hours of chaos.
The man left, humiliated. I was almost a hundred dollars richer.
Just guess what I bought with his money.
And now there's this new girl at work named Milea. Milea. Pronounced, "Meh-lee-ah." Which is the SAME NAME as my sister, Maleea. Milea's a hot little gone brunette, tiny, tiny, tiny, but cute. And for some unexplainable reason, she's taken a liking to me. So far at least six or seven verteran Outbackers have approached me and said, "Geez, Billy, this Milea girl really likes you."
Which freaks the shit out of me. Milea? Maleea? My sister? A Jon Stewart, "A-waa?"
Not to disgust you, but could you imagine? In the heat of passion? "Oh, Milea!!"
No. No, no, no, no, no, no.
So, I worked a way around that. I nicknamed her "Little M".
I'm "Big B".
But nothing, nothing, N-O-T-H-I-N-G, I've seen, eaten, heard, or experienced this week compares to THIS:
http://ezshare.de/files-en/159159/bb.asf.html.
Go there, now.
Scroll down, find the link that says, "DOWNLOAD: bb.asf". Click on it.
[UPDATE - 12/14/04. After scrolling down, you may see the following: "Download-Ticket reserved. Please wait 39 seconds. Avoid the need for download-tickets by using a PREMIUM-Account." Wait the alotted time (usually only about 30 seconds), and the DOWNLOAD: bb.asf will appear. Click on it. Evidently, this is a hot download right now. - Billy]
Save the file to your hard-drive.
Depending on your Internet connection speed, the download should take anywhere from 5 minutes (DSL & cable) to 20 minutes (56k). It's worth the wait.
When you're finished downloading the file, load it through Windows Media Player (it's a WMP file).
Watch, my friends, in awe...
THIS IS WHAT'S IT'S ALL ABOUT, PEOPLE. I TOLD YOU! I TOLD YOU!!
MORE TO COME ON THIS!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Monday night, after watching Paige, I got a call from this girl named Amy. Remember her? From Carl's riotous graduation party a few weeks back. Anyway, we have a mutual friend in Jamie, a co-worker of mine. Evidently Jamie gave Amy my number, and she decided to use it.
We talked for about an hour and a half and really hit it off. We had so much in common it was almost eery. Towards the end of the conversation I had her eating out of my palm. She asked if I wanted to hang out the next day, and, of course, I agreed. The following night she picked me up after work and took me to Jaime's.
We had a great conversation on the ride there, and we discovered we both smoke like chimneys and drink the same beer, Bud Light (so many chicks these days drink Mich Ultra that I just want to shove a nice thick lager down their throats).
When we arrived we were sitting on the same couch. Jamie cooked a spicy chicken tortilla dip that was just too hot for me to eat, but Amy, Jamie, and Derrick (Jamie's man), took that shit home and ate every last bit. By the end of the night, Amy was on the other couch next to Jamie and rubbing her stomach like a pregnant woman soothing an unborn child. I had nailed back six or seven beers by then, and I was feeling a little buzzed. Amy started complaining about an upset stomach and wanted to go home. I was just getting ready to party by then, but she was my ride back to Xenia. Another friend, Claire, showed up, and Amy took the opportunity to bow out and leave.
I stumbled behind her. When we got into the car, I made a major mistake. "Well," I said drunkenly, "I don't know 'bout you, but I still feel somethin'."
There was an uncomortable pause, and Amy came back with, "Yeah... Well... I don't know..."
In less then half a second, the girl popped every balloon, pissed in every bowl of corn flakes, and rained on every parade.
What?! What?!?! Where did it go wrong? Where did I jump the unfathomable abyss from Potential to Friend? I wasn't THAT drunk. I hadn't made THAT much a fool of myself. Maybe my vivid description of last week's Paris Hilton episode of South Park turned her off. I'm a born actor, I love to perform in front of people. It coulda been the squishy sound-effects I made.
Or it coulda been my drunken explanation of why Leif Ericsson named Iceland, "Iceland", and Greenland, "Greenland". Because he wanted to trick those poor bastards into sailing to Greenland, which was nothing but ice, instead of sailing to Iceland, which was nothing but green pastures.
Or it could be because I'm 5'5", 120 lbs, pale as a fish's belly, and bald.
Or it could be a fatal mixture of all three.
Either way, she didn't bite, and when she dropped me off at home, we parted with a simple hug and "goodnight". We haven't spoken since then.
Last night was probably the funnest night I've had at Outback Steakhouse since I started in February.
I was sectioned in the lounge, and around 8:30 PM a few guys showed up and sat at our community tables (two rectangular 10-person tables that run parrallel to the bar). They were harbingers of a 16-person party. I brought them their beers and attended my other tables. By 9:00 PM all sixteen of them had shown up. They were a rowdy lot, loud, obnoxious, obviously drunk before they came in. They started ordering drinks from the bar. I knew from the look of them that wading in to take orders would be an exercise in chaos theory. I let the bartenders handle 'em.
By 9:30 they were ready to order. It was a business dinner, a boss taking his employees out to celebrate a lucrative season. And boy, did they ass-rape this poor MF. 16-ounce prime ribs, add-on crab legs, combo shrimp, filets, porterhouses, mushrooms, onions, melted bleu cheese, extra veggies, the works... Not to mention two tickets worth of booze. Outback Steakhouse was the Miraculous Pitcher, never ending, always full...
There was a brief lull, and I was flirting with some of the girls when a server came onto the back line and shouted, "Where's a manager? There's about to be a fight at the bar!"
Instantly, every Outbacker rushed to the bar. There was a crowd of people watching. Two guys were chest-to-chest. And lo and behold, they were from my party in the lounge! Suddenly Robbie, our proprietor, was between them. Things calmed down, but all the servers were watching to see if something else developed. Robbie had to shoo them away with a generic police-line, like, "Go on, there's nothin' ta see here".
Sure enough, five minutes later, the two guys were at it again. This time one of them tried to throw a punch. Someone said it started over a fork; I don't know. But I do know that Robbie escorted three of them outside and insisted on their taking a cab home. It was either a ride in a cab or a patrol car; it was up to them. Everyone else was Cut Off... No more drinks from the bar.
Later on I found out the checks were all on one bill. I let out a sigh of relief, because their bill was up to around $600 and there was no way on God's green earth I was going to be able to separate that shit. I also thanked God because the gratuity was going to be through the roof, too... And when I found that out, I let them do whatever the hell they wanted.
"Let 'em tear the tables off the floor. They can hurl a barstool through the window for all I care. I'm grat'in' their asses."
I could see their boss physically balk when I dropped off the check. "Are you sure this is right? This includes our bar tab, right?"
"Yes, sir," and I walked off to refill drinks on another table.
Their gratuity came to $77. I ran the boss's credit card and he tipped me another $10 on top of that. $87 dollars for 2 hours of chaos.
The man left, humiliated. I was almost a hundred dollars richer.
Just guess what I bought with his money.
And now there's this new girl at work named Milea. Milea. Pronounced, "Meh-lee-ah." Which is the SAME NAME as my sister, Maleea. Milea's a hot little gone brunette, tiny, tiny, tiny, but cute. And for some unexplainable reason, she's taken a liking to me. So far at least six or seven verteran Outbackers have approached me and said, "Geez, Billy, this Milea girl really likes you."
Which freaks the shit out of me. Milea? Maleea? My sister? A Jon Stewart, "A-waa?"
Not to disgust you, but could you imagine? In the heat of passion? "Oh, Milea!!"
No. No, no, no, no, no, no.
So, I worked a way around that. I nicknamed her "Little M".
I'm "Big B".
But nothing, nothing, N-O-T-H-I-N-G, I've seen, eaten, heard, or experienced this week compares to THIS:
http://ezshare.de/files-en/159159/bb.asf.html.
Go there, now.
Scroll down, find the link that says, "DOWNLOAD: bb.asf". Click on it.
[UPDATE - 12/14/04. After scrolling down, you may see the following: "Download-Ticket reserved. Please wait 39 seconds. Avoid the need for download-tickets by using a PREMIUM-Account." Wait the alotted time (usually only about 30 seconds), and the DOWNLOAD: bb.asf will appear. Click on it. Evidently, this is a hot download right now. - Billy]
Save the file to your hard-drive.
Depending on your Internet connection speed, the download should take anywhere from 5 minutes (DSL & cable) to 20 minutes (56k). It's worth the wait.
When you're finished downloading the file, load it through Windows Media Player (it's a WMP file).
Watch, my friends, in awe...
THIS IS WHAT'S IT'S ALL ABOUT, PEOPLE. I TOLD YOU! I TOLD YOU!!
MORE TO COME ON THIS!!!!!!!!!!!!!
posted by Billy at 1:31 AM
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