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.

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.

Sonic “Americas Drive-Thru”  Broken Arrow, OK 74011

I really enjoyed this Sonic for the span that it was open. To bad I have to do this.

I visit one evening with my simple order of “2 corny dogs and a tate tot”

They brought it out rather “sonic” like which really impressed me. It was around 8:30 p.m.  When I returned home, I learned why this food was brought to me in such a “sonic matter”.

 My corny dogs were rotten.

Abso-freaking-lutely cold rotten.  The outer cornmeal was hard, crunchy, and when I finally broke it open, it was dark brown in color. Then I gazed upon my hot dog.

 It looked like my hotdog suffered from leprosy and had long been decomposed.  It resembled a monkey finger left in the sun.

I have never been so pissed about the quality of something that is relatively so simple to produce.

Like fucking up a glass of water. 

I bit the bullet (figuratively) and enjoyed my tate-tots in frustration.

Fast forward 2 weeks.

Stink and I left a local pub and on the way back to his house we decided to pull into the Sonic.

Stink ordered the usual fast food crap and I once again ordered my 2 corny dogs and a tate-tot trying to repress the memory in the back of my head that the last time I did this I ordered a Maserati and got a Huffy.

We get back to Stinks house, not forgetting to mention that the whole way back to his house I’m bitching about my last Sonic experience.  We go into his kitchen and sit down. I unsheath my meal on a popsicle stick.  I bite into it. It immediately feels like I was punched in the mouth by Ivan Drago off of Rocky 4.  I tear back the cornmeal coating.

 Once again, hot dog looked like sundried ape finger.

Stink begins laughing hysterically.

THESE MOTHERF……

The next few minutes I didn’t remember a thing. It was continuous lines of profanity and threats.

I composed myself and prepared for the phonecall.

When I called them I talked with an employee first off that spoke like he was a supporting actor in a Cheech and Chong movie.

He passed the phone to the manager like it was a blunt.

Sonic night manager, “This is *so and so not important* what can I do for you?”

Hi, I cannot seem to get an adequate corny dog without it looking like a turd. I know they are only 99 cents but I invest in these quite frequently, and lately, well sir, your corny dogs have been significantly below par.

(I like talking like an asshole to these guys while remaining respectful)

Sonic manager, “Yeah sir, see during the winter, we found that we can precook the food in the early afternoon then just reheat it when people order it later.”

Note: I can tell they are all laughing at my terminology for corn dogs. I should have called them “cornbattered pig/dog/rat anus blessed by a fryer containing a fair abundant mixture of human saliva and other unmentionables” but he probably would have directed me towards NASA.

“WAIT! YOU KNEW OF THIS TECHNIQUE!?”

I for one am completely for streamlining production, but NEVER when it compromises the quality of a product or service. This includes corny dogs.

He says, “well yeah, I mean, we do it during the summer when it’s busy cause the food really doesn’t have time to go bad, I guess they just carried that little trick over to winter time?”

I am beside myself. I mean his honesty is impressive but wow… You seriously just spilled to a customer your disgusting habits. I can only imagine the filth that goes on in there.

He “credited” my Visa with the amount that was owed at time of purchase. I never looked on my bank statement because.. well it was like 3 dollars. I don’t care that much.

I get more pleasure in writing about it.

A few months later I’m sitting at a bar when a guy comes through cussing up a storm. He said he ordered a burger from there, they screwed it up in ways unimaginable.  They took the burger back, then served it to him again; this time cold and unchanged. He proceeded to get up and smear it all over the window before getting in his car and driving off. That was good enough for me.

I’ll just pretend I had an imaginary part in the payback he “claims” he had.

I used to think I was the only one that had issues with fast food.  Than I learned that there is a breed of us in this world who just cannot get a break when it comes to specific things. God forbid I ever get decent service. 

1) Braums. Tahlequah, Ok 74464

I order my 1/3 pound (seriously?) jalepeno jack burger. The waste of oxygen working the window is immediately unpleasant. I pull around. I can hear them cussing in the kitchen and being vulgar when she opens the window. Her name is Heather. She hands me my food. It is cold. I catch her attention to resolve this ordeal while remaining perfectly aware that the nasty little buggers are just going to nuke it, and then take opportunities to do something unspeakable to it.  She takes my hammyburger, bitchrolls her eyes and tells me to pull up.  I pull up. It is obvious that it is taking longer to get my food back than what is needed from a minute microwave job. I recieve my food from the failure in life wearing a blue apron with cigarette burns and semen stains all over it.  I open my burger. It appears to have been sat on and raped. I wad the burger up, throw it at the store while driving off. Braums is good for their milk and cheese. That is all I use them for now.

2)  Arby’s. Broken Arrow, Ok 74012

I was extremely hungry. I order a large curly fry, a triple cheese and bacon roast beef sammy with a super large sweet tea and their specialty pepperoni yummy bites. If any of you must know, I eat Arby’s like a freak. I tear into the bacon first, then roast beef, then bread, then fries, all with a ridiculous amount of horsey, arby, and 3 pepper sauce.  I get my food. As I’m pulling around I note that the bag is about 2 lbs. lighter than what it maybe should be. I open bag and look inside. It looked like they purposely fisted me. I take a drink of my sweet tea and try to grasp onto the little bit of self control that is holding me back from kicking some fast food ass.  My sweet tea is hot. I grab my shit and begin the walk to the door. As I remember back to my Braum’s experience I decide I’m going to stand there this time and be sure they don’t mess with anything. When I walked in the door carrying my bag, I maintained a smile and in a friendly relaxed calm voice….

“Excuse me sir, there seems to be a mistake, I understand you’re busy” (It’s 3pm on a Thursday, he was as high as Tina Turner and watching the roaches run around in absolute astonishment.)

He calls the boss over.

 Boss, ” Yeah… Whats wrong with it?..”

“I got the wrong sammy, small plain fries, a hot sweet tea, 4 packets of ketchup, no sauce, and where’s my pepperoni yummies!”

I’m not lying one bit about this.  This prick rolled his eyes at me. I quickly looked for something blunt to knight him with.  He pulls my sammy out, looks at it, pitches it, grabs another sammy, throws cheese on it, slaps some bacon, wraps it and replaces it. He grabs another regular fry, and puts it in my bag because it doesn’t take an Arby’s employee to understand that 2 regular fries equals a big ass cup of wholesome curly q’s. He grabs my tea, dumps a quarter out, puts ice in it, gives it back. Throws some pepperoni yummy treats from under the heat lamp in my bag. Grabs a handful of sauces, shoves them down into my bag, and slides the bag back to me.

“What else do you want..”

I was gritting my teeth. it took every ounce of energy to run to the hardware store, buy a shovel, wait for him after work, parking lot mob him, bury him with my food.  I’ve never been so pissed off.  Good for nothing spineless, fast food piece of rotten shit.  Mad that you work at Arby’s? Go to Blockbuster. Don’t like people? Mow yards.

Asshole ruined my yummies…

When we were freshman in high school, Skeet moved to Muskogee for a year because his mom got a house in an inheritance. Well every now and again Treez, Stevo an I would travel down there to go party and watch Skeet’s bro terrorize animals because he was a screwed up kid. I won’t talk about those stories but the stories from the parties are fun

1st trip to Muskogee

We first get there and meet two of Skeet’s friends, the Bunch and Seizure. One of them has pot, Treez and I liked Pot. We smoked. Later Treez grabs Seizure’s soccer bag and goes hiking in a quest for mass quantities of alcohol. Stevo, Skeet and I go hiking for mass quantities of girls. We find them and they know Skeet. We bring them back to Skeet’s house and about 2 hours later we see Treez stumbling around. He told us tales of walking a couple of miles and playing hey mister at a gas station. He purchased 5 cases of Red Dog and Ice House. Now for those of you who don’t remember those two beers they came in 18 packs and they were not so much like a nectar of the gods but more like piss. But we were 15 and did not care. Well Treez was covered in mud up to his thighs because he said he walked through some kind of make shift marshland.
Well we commenced drinking and figuring out which girls we were going to mess around with. There were 5 girls and 4 guys at this point so we call Seizure back over to take one of them. I take the one that has the biggest boobs, Treez takes the skinny semi-cute one, Stevo takes the pale black haired one and Skeet gets the tall girl probably because he’s the biggest guy. Seizure gets the ugly one. 

Then the fun started, I took Big Boobs McGee to her S-10 Blazer and start to have relations with her. It was fun, I think we broke one the shocks. All the other guys messed around to only in various ways and none got as far as I did. Well that night ended and we went back to Broken Arrow the next day.

In between trips a week before we went down there, the girls called my personal phone and left this message,

 ”Stink, Treez, Stevo, these are your Muskogee women… We heard ya’ll were coming down here this weekend and we can’t wait to see you.”

That was the whole message.

2nd Trip to Muskogee

We meet up with Skeet, Seizure and Bunch again. Then the girls came over. Yea you know what we were thinking. We were going to try and get something really kinky and crazy going on. It never happened of course. Well it was new girls b-day and she had a joint that someone gave her. I said let’s smoke it. She said I could get it after she had two hits. I got it and Treez goes, “Kill It Stink”. So I took all but a little roach of her b-day joint and handed it back to her.

She was not pleased but I was high and didn’t care.
So we got more beer and got drunk but this time none of us got any from any of the girls. I think we might have gotten to drunk and stoned and made them mad.

3rd Trip to Muskogee

Skeet’s 16th B-day.

What a wonderful day that was. This time it was at his dad’s house instead of his mom’s. We got beer and the girls to come over. We obviously started out proper by getting completely obliterated. The girls lined us up and wanted to see who has the firmest but so we flexed and they felt. Then we were asked to see who had the biggest dong so we showed them.

It was a little strange.
So the night keeps progressing and we start trying to hook up. We get the same girls we did the first time. Stevo starts hooking up with Vampira, so named because she would only stay in the dark. She tells him, don’t worry I shaved.

Yeah right.

He sticks his hand in her pants and it’s something reminiscent of a 1970’s porn bush. Later on Stevo went to McDonald’s with Vampira and while waiting in the drive-thru he fondled her boobs and she stroked his penis. She ordered a bunch of food and Stevo asked why she was ordering so much food. Vampira notified him that she was ordering the food for her boyfriend that she was meeting after she dropped him off…
Skeet goes to his bedroom only to be blocked by Treez walking in on him trying to hit it. Treez comes to me and asks for a condom in his attempt at trying to get some. I take Big Boobs McGee to the back of Skeet’s dad’s SUV and she says we can’t have sex so she tugs me off and it actually worked. She left and there was one girl that didn’t have a guy because there were 5 of them and only 4 of us.

I felt bad for her so I started hooking up with her.

Her friend that Treez was trying to hook up with caught wind of this and said if I took her friend’s virginity, she would kill me. That settled it for Treez though.

His girl wasn’t going to do anything because she wanted to make sure I didn’t have sex with her friend.

So I took her to the other side of a Jeep parked in the street. I laid on the ground and she starts giving me a hummer right there in the middle of the street. They could hear her slurping from 20 feet away.

I hope she has kids and they are reading this.

Then a car started to drive by and I had to get up and then we went to the back yard. Well after time Vampira and the other’s left us.
About an hour after the girls had left us Skeet had to poop.

This wasn’t your ordinary lunchbreak bowel movement. 

It was a poop so messy because of all the booze and enchiladas we had that day that I don’t think the Muskogee HAZMAT team would have been able to contain the demons that sprayed out of his tailpipe. He used almost a full roll of toilet paper and still managed in his drunken stupor to smear poodoo all over his hand. After he noticed his fecal matter on his hand, he did what any guy trying to salvage, what little, if any amount of integrity and dignity he might still possess. 
He rolled directly into the shower for a carwash.

While he was in the shower Stevo and Treez and I devised a plan to throw ice cold water on Skeet. He screamed like a little girl but little did we know this would be the start of the most epic shaming I have ever been apart of.
Treez went and passed out on Skeet’s bed with his shoes on.  For any rookies to the game of binging, this is a free opportunity to shame.

A mixture of about 50 spices, eggs, pickles and other things were used in one of the worst shamings I have ever seen. It looked like a big pile of the same chum that Quint threw overboard to lure the shark in JAWS. Skeet got his infamous rage that he gets when drunk.  And this time it was for Treez walking in on him while he was trying to get some. Skeet first started slapping Treez across the face but it was to his dismay, that it did no good with Treez being in the drunken coma state that he was.
Skeet then came up with the most unthinkable acts of barbarism ever to be thought of during a shaming. We don’t know exactly how he devised this plan in his drunken rage but it was absolutely without a doubt the most revolting way to end a night that I can think of. Skeet put a porno in the DVD player, primed himself up, got out a bottle of lotion and finished one off all over Treez’ body. Treez awoke sometime after this but was too drunk to comprehend anything.

Treez asked for water.

Stevo gave him a bottle of The World’s Most Dangerous BBQ Sauce.

Treez, apparently neandrathal drunk, tried to chug what he thought was waer but instead he spit it up all over himself. Treez went to the bed of Skeet’s truck to lay down. We thought it would be polite to hose Treez off with a jug of diluted sticky pickle juice.  

A simple moral to this story might be something like don’t cockblock a friend and pass out first.

 I personally think it should be “stay the fuck out of Muskogee.”