every tuesday is maxwell's night. but if you've been reading, you already know that. tonight was another packed night, on account of the twins game. the result of said game, i'd rather not talk about. our table was so overflowing, that hope, riley and i split from our group and sat next to some older dudes. probably one of the better decisions i've made in my life, because the conversation that unfolded with these dudes was awesome.
these dudes were beer men. the guys who run up and down the stairs at minneapolis sporting events, so people can drink without leaving their seats. there was four of them. two quiet ones. a creepy guy, who stared more than talked, and when he did talk he used the word "peeps." and there was mullet guy, who sells malt cups not beer. then there were the two guys we talked to, tony and scary dan.
tony's pretty good with numbers. he guessed what year we were born and was only a couple years off. we had a nice talk on how young people love getting tattoos. and how funny it'll be when we are senior citizens with saggy tattoos. the conversation jumped around. he showed us a picture of his family. one of the best parts was when he demonstrated his beer holler.
of course, sports dominated the conversation. that's probably why i enjoyed sitting by them so much. scary dan and tony had fun testing our sports iq. they quizzed hope and riley on twins and other big name players. i fed them some of the answers. they were surprised by how much i knew about sports. tony doesn't think young people like sports as much as in the past (they must be too focused on getting tattoos or something). riley's willing to learn more though. scary dan and tony wrote a homework assignment down on a napkin for her. if she completes it, they'll buy her a beer in two weeks after the twins-chisox game. they are beer men after all. holla.
my life would make a pretty good tv show. sometimes i think i am on tv. like people are watching me right now. there are so many things that seem to go well for me, there are also so many things that go sour. and all those things happen in a way that seem too extreme to be real. they're the type of things that make you stop and ask, "is this really happening to me?" but maybe that's just life.
movies like the truman show, stranger than fiction or even the matrix just further my suspicions of being watched. and the fact i'm watching those kind of movies would just make great irony for my show. there wouldn't need to be any advertisements because i work in an ad agency and stare at that sort of thing all day. even these blog entries would make a great recap to any given episode.
sometimes i start to think about this so much, that i purposely try to be boring, so maybe my show will get canceled. i'll just sit around doing nothing, it's kind of relaxing. or i can just start writing gibberish that has no point to the story. like this. or this. or maybe even this. blah. blah. blah.
the punk rock van. old: yes. reliable: ummmm...
my parents sat me down, kind of like you'd do if you were about to tell someone a close relative died, "we think it'd be a good idea for you to get a new car." the reasoning that followed was that my primary car should be more reliable and they'll keep the punk rock van as their back up vehicle, running it into the ground. they think that this is such a good idea, that they're willing to help me out with the down payment. tempting offer, but the punk rock van is also quite the temptress. so it'll take a pretty sweet car to steal my heart away from the prv.
does anyone have any suggestions? keeping in mind i have driven some pretty unique cars, first a large custom cruiser station wagon with a moon roof, then the punk rock van. so i don't want some normal boring car.
it's a nice surprise finding money in your pocket. especially when you didn't even know it was in there. sometimes it's all soft like a tissue because it survived a couple loads of laundry. but as soft as it is, it's still good for spending. even if it's monopoly money, you can still buy a couple houses, or maybe even a hotel.
recently i found a very large sum of money in some pockets. enough money that scrooge mcduck could trade it for pennies and swim in a pool of coins. the money was in a pair of pants owned by the government. they took money out of my pockets and put it in their pockets. now i'm taking the money and putting it back into my pockets. thank you tax refund.
it was nice of them to hold onto it. cause now it feels like i won the lottery. and to celebrate, i'm gonna give the money right back to the governments pockets to pay off the remainder of my student loans. debt free's the way to be. i learned that in dare class.
flower: [about two birds fluttering around] well! what's the matter with them?
thumper: why are they acting that way?
friend owl: why, don't you know? they're twitterpated.
flower, bambi, thumper: twitterpated?
friend owl: yes. nearly everybody gets twitterpated in the springtime. for example: you're walking along, minding your own business. you're looking neither to the left, nor to the right, when all of a sudden you run smack into a pretty face. woo-woo! you begin to get weak in the knees. your head's in a whirl. and then you feel light as a feather, and before you know it, you're walking on air. and then you know what? you're knocked for a loop, and you completely lose your head!
the twins have me twitterpatted every spring. and it lasts all season. i went to the season opener last monday, and it felt like i was sitting in the dome for the playoffs only the day before. all the time between the end of last season and the beginning of this season had disappeared. thankfully, the sold out opener had a much better finish then the playoffs.
the espn baseball analysts don't give the twins a chance. they must be taking crazy pills. how can one go against a team with the reigning mvp, cy young winner and batting champ? yet, despite their stupidity, i wouldn't want it any other way. the twins play well as the underdogs, and i love a good underdog story.
if you're looking for me, i'll be watching baseball.
i smell like cigarettes right now. but bingo was worth this minor inconvenience. it just means i might actually have to wash my clothes.
a few blocks down from a trailer park is little canada bingo hall. with entertainment fit for an old person. and it just so happens that i love old people entertainment, like bowling. i also dress like a grandpa from time to time. it seemed as though a number of other people enjoy bingo too. only much more than i do. i would have fit in better if i was a chain smoker, but some older ladies helped me get settled in just fine. i was only playing one sheet which had 6 bingo boards on it. yet the regulars there had over 6 playing sheets spread across the table. they'd move so fast, dabbing colorful paint dots as every number was called. i think that's the fastest i've ever seen an old person move. even after dotting all of their sheets they still had time to check over my shoulder to comment on how i was doing. they probably thought i was doing well since i kept smiling so much. i was just having fun. the regulars seemed like they were so focused on all their cards that they weren't having much fun. my enthusiasm probably reminded them of the good old days when they were still young and innocent and only played with one bingo sheet, much less stressful.
last time i went to the bingo hall was over 4 years ago, i felt as though i was too loud for them and no one wanted me there. this time was different, i felt welcome. yet the outcome was still the same, i won no money. and i smell like cigarettes.