Dec 18th, 2006, 07:05 PM
Weekend fun...
My staff X-mas party was on Friday. There was plenty of what my Rec Aide calls "Ric Flair Juice" (since Jagrbombs have a tendency to make everyone and anyone go "WOOOO!!"). I don't remember how I got to my friend's house afterward, but we were there (we being the Mrs, my co-worker Ashley, and Ryan & Amy who live there) and proceeded to polish off a bottle of Bacardi, visit Cheech a few times, and finished up with one last Jagrbomb so that I had enough strength to walk back to my house and let my woman have her way with me.
Needless to say, the next morning I paid, in full, the bill for the night before...and I had to go X-mas shopping. Fun. First there was the liquor store for my parents. It hurt me just to walk in there. I did, however, take a sample of wine. If looks could kill, I would be a dead man after the gaze the lady shot me after I swallowed the wine. Anyway, I was far from being in the mood for anyone else's bullshit, and the fucking lady in front of me in line started making a big stink about some fucking coupon that she got in the paper that the clerk was not honoring. See, I was in a small three or four store chain and the coupon was for the location in Clifton Park and not for the one in Wilton. The lady did not seem to understand this. To make matters worse, she was one of those fucking militant christians who get offended by people using the term Happy Holidays. Oh, excuse the fuck out of me. I'm so sorry that I find it a bit more polite to say Happy Holidays due to the fact that 1) I would like to just include the New Year into one term instead of having to say both, and 2) you don't know who you're talking to. I'm sure Jerry Rosenburg doesn't need any more reminders that he doesn't believe in Jesus. The thing that really burns my ass about the whole thing is that they won and yet they still continue to beat the rest of us down with their lexicon. Stupid, ignorant, and holding my ass up in line for twenty minutes, while I'm hungover...the bitch needed to die!
I never got really worked up about the whole "Christmas" vs. "Holiday" thing before this year. Even when, last year, Bill O'Reilly said that Christians are offended by the use of H.H. and that it is ridiculous for non-Christians to be offened by M.C. This year though, it seems to me anyway, that the "satanically secular" media is giving in...and the Christians are still yackin' about it! They're in full form this year! There's this one church by me that is handing out flyers about how Santa is the devil! Are you fucking serious? Did I wander on to the set of SNL during a Church Lady skit?
So, after leaving the liquor store, finally, and politely dismissing a Christian-flyer-hander-outer by kindly telling him that I worshipped Satan, I headed to CVS to get my prescription. While at CVS, I reached a breaking point of sorts. I was in the magazine/toy aisle with a mother and her children, and I, again, got the urge to kill. The mom was on her cell phone, talking to whoever about how shitfaced she got at her own X-mas soiree, completely ignoring her kids. Her kids were smacking the piss out of each other (not that there's anything abnormal about that. My brother and I still do that), the problem was they were calling each other "motherfucker" and "shithead." Now, I've worked with kids for the past three years, a third of that time with handicapped kids, and the one thing that always gets my fucking goat is when parents are too involved in their own lives to even teach their kids manners. So, I told the woman to please get her children under control because I had a headache, and she told me to mind my own business and stormed off. I was too relieved of being free of her presence to get annoyed at her discourtesy.
As I was in the soda aisle, I resurrected an old habit of mine that always made me happy, regardless of how juvenile it is. I began to shake shelved soda bottles. An entire, eye level row, and half of another before a store manager started to make frequent visits to my aisle. I grabbed my prescription and headed to my next destination.
Now, I've gotten shit from my most liberal of liberals brother for shopping at Wal-Mart. I know. I know that I shouldn't support the big machine and all that jazz, but when I have to get my little cousin a Star Wars Transformer set that has Han Solo and Chewy transform into the Millennium Falcon when I don't even have one yet! No way in hell I'm paying more than I have to. Wal-Mart is packed. People who shop at Wal-Mart need to shower. I almost vomited a couple times there...ech...My blood again began to boil with just the mondane things people talk about. Celebrity break-ups, Nascar, Survivor...What really got me was when I observed a mother and daughter ogling Bratz toys. Bratz are disgusting and are making our female youth want nothing more to be dumbass sluts who care only about fashion and makeup. Which will lead to only caring about two more things; drinking and dick. Fantastic future we're paving for our daughters huh? So, to relieve my tensions I again stole away to the soda aisle. Much bigger aisles. Halfway through my first go I got caught by a dick with ears and hair. Our exchange went something like this: "What the hell are you doing?"
I was caught, what else could I say. "Shaking up these soda bottles."
"Why?"
"So when people take them home, they'll explode in their face. Or at least that's what I'm hoping." This last part I said in a kind of fear drenched bravado. I know the words to say to sound like a care-not, dontgiveashit punk, but what comes out sound like something halfway between Fat Mike and a smurf. Or at least that's the best way I can explain it. I'm not really a tough guy, but I play one on TV.
"Well, you've got two options, we can have a problem or you can get the hell out of my store right now."
"I'm leaving." He escorted me out the store and told me as I walked out to the parking lot.
"I better not see you in here again until after Christmas or we're going to have that problem."
I came home wrapped presents and then the wifey remembered that she still had some whiskey that she hid on herself.
On Sunday I shaved my beard, put on a different coat, and went back to Wal-Mart to get that toy I didn't get a chance to buy. I even waved "Hello" to my security guard buddy. That confused him. I got home, watched the Pats thrash the hell out of the Texans (though, I'm not a huge fan of football, it was just always something I'd do with my dad and brother), got some more of my house painted, watched Grosse Point Blank, and went to sleep.
How was your weekend?
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