Phishr Chronicles

I was looking through an old notebook from a Business class that I had next to this cute girl. We used to write back and forth in my notebook and I came across a funny one. It’s rather short so I thought I would add it.

When we wrote back and forth she would always ask the typical questions like, “what did you do over the weekend”, “what are your plans this week” and “come over and watch me try on my new lingerie”…

Ok I made up the first two.

Anyways I was telling her about a weekend that I ate at Red Lobster, the seafood place.

“I was at Red Lobster this weekend and my waitress obviously had a fake leg because she walked like a pirate. The food was a high C; low B at the best but I give the character authenticity an A+”.

If I were a girl I’d sure date me.

Sitting at my desk today I was booking travel arrangements in the Sacramento area. Typically this consists of checking availability, rates, and destination distances. If the hotel is within these constraints, I book. I speak with these people all the time and I have come to being very friendly with them as you speak with some interesting people. I’m typically overly pleasant, helpful, clear and all around polite, as I like to be spoken too. I happened to say something today that even caught myself offguard.

I called a Hampton and was transferred over to a friendly female counterpart with the same attitude as I had.  In this case I tried to outdo her, which in turn she tried to “out-sweet talk” me. This conversation got fluffier, cheesier and by midexchange it was like the gushy part of a Disney movie. If our conversation were the weather, it would have been all rainbows and sunrays.  If our conversation were an animal, it would be a soft puppy that cried gumdrops. If our conversation were a color, it would be tickled pink. If our conversation played music, it would be something with a harp… and puppies licking the face of a newborn baby who was laughing while lying on a cloud with the Raisin Bran sun smiling and pouring two scoops of freaking happiness all over the Barney song. This conversation had more cheese than a… you get the point.

 Then once again, with one sentence I completely destroyed this conversation with this innuendo.

She asked how would I prefer to book the room.

I told her by credit card.

She replied for me to go ahead and start reading it back to her when ready.

“Not a problem at all! Tell me though, how do YOU want ME to give it to you?”

I heard her take a breath.

Whooops. It’s one of those moments when you first want to go back in time and rephrase that. Then immediately it turned to hilarity. I could tell she was flustered. I couldn’t say anything else without laughing into the phone. The conversation ended awkwardly. Who cares. I made an unconscience sexual pass at a hotel attendant and honestly didn’t mean anything bad by it. Freud would say I wanted to do bad things to her. I’m keeping a log from here out of these moments. They’re worth it.

This one hurts me.  When I was about 16, Fat and I would come here for “man’s night” as a tradition we wanted to claim. Around my 21st birthday I became afraid of women who flaunted their body for money and began disrespecting them.  It’s no so much of a fear as it is a blatant loss of emotion for their general human rights. Tittie bars and Hooters were out of the question.  Some would see them as eye candy whereas I would wonder what point of their life did they decide to do this.

 ”But Phishr, my girl dances and she makes more money than god”.

So?! I could give the best fellatio to truckers and bring home millions but still cry myself to sleep trying to repress the actuality that I am in fact a professional cocksucker…. Anyways.

I show up to Gerbil’s birthday get together at Hooters. I mistakenly show up an hour early. Fail. In an attempt to find something to pass my time I drive in circles. Not working. What can I possibly do to delay me walking in this place and feeling like the guys off of “To Catch a Predator”.  I drive to my bank and hope to get stuck in rush hour.

9 minutes later I’m back in the parking lot.

“Fuck!”

I go in.

Hostess, “Welcome to Hoot..”

“where’s the bar.”

She directs me and I go. 

I perch up and wait for a beer. While waiting I note a USA Today, and I reach for the sports section. There is a grease stain with the remnants of chicken stuck to the page.

I wait for my beer and stare at the wall.

“What can i gt you to drink”

I point at an aluminum Bud bottle in the fridge behind her.

“Do you want draft or bottle?”

I point more sternly at the aluminum Bud bottle behind her.

“Glass or Metal?”

Are you kidding me? “The aluminum one!”

My beer tastes like bitter hell. I stare at the wall and force down the $5 crap. I tip $2 dollars.

$2 dollars. Remember.

7P.M.- My party arrives. We have the back room. I grab a seat and two of the girls take our drink orders. There are 13 of us. 7 pitchers at most.

7:20P.M.- My sole pitcher arrives.  Hooray. I order fried pickles because I have heard they are excellent, and a 10 piece 911/Cajun wings.

7:50P.M.- My pickles arrive. This is the 3rd time I have seen the waitress. We are not too demanding of a crowd. What could be he hold up?

7:54P.M.- My wings are in front of me. I inhale the deep fried misery and prep for my wings.  911 wings were cold. I don’t mean heat lamp cold, I don’t mean room temperature cold, I mean ‘the health department would have a freaking field day for the temp of this chicken’ cold.  Also, 4th time to see her.

By 8:30 it is obviously clear that everyone is ready for a ticket or another drink. I give the universal “ticket” gesture.

9:17P.M.- I get my ticket. It is 23 dollars and some change. I hand the girl $40.

“Do you want change?”

4 words have just ruined this girls night.  I don’t care how “nice” these girls are, or how “caring” they are, her mother should have aborted for all I care.  I am officially beside myself. I see you less than 4 minutes in the past 2 hours and 17 mind numbing minutes and you have the audacity to ask if I want the fair half of my 23 dollar ticket back? Why you rotten little skank…

NOTE: I had strategically placed 71 cents under a plate as her tip because the service was that pathetic.

I deduct 2 quarters from that. And to be honest, I’m sure I was in the top 10% who gave her the best tip.

Combined, the table had to of spent $500-$600.  She probably only made 20 bucks. Excuse me, $20.21. 

I don’t care how big your tit’s are. You get TIPPED for good fast friendly service. You don’t give the gold medal to the gymnast with the most degrading costume. If she doesn’t like the costume, she should have been a CFO or a trucker or a mascot.  I hope that 21 cents gets her far on the highway to life, cause she should probably think about driving as far away as possible from what she’s currently doing.

I don’t know if anyone out there does this, but can you identify one thing that just makes your day that much better. For some people it may be seeing their children, for others, it may be watching a rear end collision. It is that one moment that defines the day, and today being Friday, something pretty astonishing would have to catch my attention to divert the only thing I can think about… Stiff Drink Friday.

Yes today is the day I and a fellow neighbor of mine have dubbed Stiff Drink Friday. I am thrilled for Fridays, as the day is just that much sweeter. But today, today something wonderful happened that could be the reason I will be in a better mood all day long. 

I had just exited onto 61st and headed west towards Memorial. 61st usually angers me because for some odd reason, the far lane between Mingo and Memorial can sometimes on good days hit speeds in excess of 35 mph.  Do not be fooled, this is not traffic congestion, people just feel that this area of Tulsa can be a real “nightmare”. There is ABSOLUTELY no reason for this to be a hazardous area. Traffic never comes to a stop for someone turning, it’s never really THAT busy.  If I can remember this part of my commute every morning and have the ability to write about it, it must piss me off… And it does.

So as I’m traveling westbound on 61st going at a rate that would give a three toed sloth restless leg syndrome I look to notice a child standing in front of his house on a side road as if someone were picking him up for school. His mother is standing next to him waiting patiently as well.  Since I obviously wasn’t going anywhere quickly, to took note of this mother and son. 

Do you remember the early Michael Jackson videos where there is an actual storyline to the video and at just the right moment Michael breaks out in this ultrasonic dance that rattles the walls? This child, no older than 8, backpack on back, mom at side, throws this move down that stopped traffic. This kid dropped these moves, rewound, refilled, and doubled up the funkiest shit I had ever seen. The kids moves could stop global warming they were so ice cold. 

It may be the Starbucks bottled frappuccino drinks I’ve had, but I can’t quit shaking. A defining moment had come acrosss this kid, and he certainly defined the moment. I will no doubt have a drink for this kid. He obviously knows his calling in life.

None of us will ever be on this level. 

On a quick note, while you are reading this, I have just boarded my flight for the production of Vegas 3.0. Enjoy!

If you are already aware of what an upper decker is, this will be a treat. If you don’t, this will be a sweet treat.

Fall 2000- It was a warm Friday. The air conditioner was pathetic in my old Blazer. The party was on the north side of our town (note that it was a little out of place for me) but the hosts’ house that was hosting the typical high school weekend party were really hot.  Our town was larger than your everyday suburban town. When you graduate with around 1000 people, there is a good chance that you don’t know a fair chunk of people; especially if I was on the southern part of town partying on the other side.

On the way to the party a buddy and I had stopped at the new Taco Bueno. I ordered a bueno chilada (the SAME thing I’ve ordered there since I was a child) and we dined down as a last attempt to ward off any hunger spells that might cross us in the evening. Upon arrival the party was already unfolding. I had to park at the end of the block. Now my buddy was someone from North so he knew everyone immediately and I was still new to most of these people. He heads to the back yard and I sit at the kitchen table for some consumption games. The night wears on and I still only know about 5 people here. I start to get impatient because everyone is walking around with this undeserved sense of personal accomplishment. Like talking to a group of realtors.  Some of the people were athletes, some were spoiled beyond rich, and some were just scrappers, (luckily I wasn’t much of a “roughian, however, my buddy was).

Even as the night went on, I still didn’t have a whole lot in common with these people except maybe the whole friend of a friend relationship, and those are always awkward:

Me, “So you know (friend)

Friend of friend, “Yeah, he/she is awesome”

Me, “Yeah, I’ve had some crazy times with him/her”

Friend of friend, “Yeah, you should have known him/her as long as I have!”

Me, “……..fuck you.”

The party was “filling beyond fire code” and the hostess was starting to kick people out that she was not familiar with. This worried me because I was a threat… And on top of all of that, the Bueno was about to make an appearance.

Hostess, “I don’t know you, you need to leave.”

Me, “I need to use your bathroom…please”.

Hostess, “Well I guess you should have thought about that before.”

What the… Thought about what? Your random ability to deny me usage to your restroom because you feel the need to show off authority and banish me from your household in front of your friends? You BITCH…

She turned around and continued to filter through people that she felt were not worthy of her parents cheap ass house.

I, on the other hand, found my way into the hall bathroom…

I locked myself into the bathroom still upset from the poor attitude I had just received.  I knew I had to be quick in the bathroom because I did not want to jeopardize my dignity by some bitchy hostess picking a bathroom lock and exposing my “no bueno”bathroom visit.

I undid my pants, and it hit me quicker then the bueno did.

[This next piece is the definition of the upper-decker.  You remove the lid to the back tank on the toilet. Once removed, one stands on the toilet lid and removes pants to knees. Pending head clearance, prankster now defecates in tank. Replace lid and walk away. This is turn will stink and continuously recycle poopy water]

I quickly gave this bathroom one bueno of an upper-decker. And for the icing on the cake, I used the decorative hand towels as my personal toilet tissue. Once I replaced the decorative towels to their respected towel racks. I was out of the bathroom in and out of the bathroom in a few minutes. None the wiser.

I can only hope that the hostess of the party had tried plunging the toilet all next morning not understanding why this was happening. Putting the plunger up and drying her hands.

I look back now and feel kind of guilty for the stint.  I demoralized this bathroom for what? Cause the girl was being a disrespectful bitch?

Yes I did.

When these crazy urges for revenge come across me, it’s usually due to a fairly good amount of pent up frustration releasing itself on one persons parade.  Unfortunately, this was not her day to act like a pain in the ass bitch. I accepted the fact that I was not familiar to her home, as did I also accept that she wanted me to leave and not use her bathroom, but…

I guess a good closing for this is, you can’t have your cake and eat it too.

Can you think of a better proverb? Post it then… And it better be good, otherwise..