Tuesday, May 16, 2006

Better?? Better Get A Bucket!!

I was saving this one but Grimjack brought it up last night so here goes another one.

The Beef and Beer

Years ago, one of my Dad's (and Grim's Mom's) cousins died. Apparently, he didn't have any insurance or some such (notice how I have no facts on the importance of things unless they pertain to me) so they held a Beef and Beer to raise money for the family. Keep in mind we never had anything to do with my Father's cousin's side of the family.

Grim, myself and my friend Jim, heard "lots of beer" so we went. Grimjack's parents also went. Being young and able to drink, we were "scopin' the chicks!" The dialogue that night went like this:

Deathlok: Dude, check out that chick
Grim's Mom (leaning in): That's your cousin.
Deathlok: Wow! Look at her!
Grim's Mom (leaning in): That's your 2nd cousin.

and so on and so on. . . . . . . . .

So, we are at a Beef and Beer and the only person that I'm not related to is my friend Jim. What's a Deathlok to do. We were there for beers and girls. That left beer. Beer! Beer! Beer!

Later, I meet this girl. She's my cousin Dawn. 6 foot tall and stunningly gorgeous. My Aunt says "Actually, she's your step-second cousin (which means no blood relation). So I'm chatting it up. Wonderful!! Unfortunately, this was later in the night and the dance card was previously filled with beer.

I'm sitting next to everbody and I bent down to "look under the table". See when your drunk you think that nobody can see you. I hear "Did he just throw up in the pretzel bucket?" . . .which I had. Being the concerned friends they are, Jim and Grim (heh heh) threw me in the back of Jim's car and Grim drove my car. I think. Grim will have to elaborate, as the next thing that I remember, I am waking up in the back of Jim's blue 72 Pinto with the blue fur dashboard wondering where I am. It seems that the two of them got hunger and decided to drive to South Street for Philadelphia Cheesesteaks. And just left me, assuming that no one would steal me.

About a year or so later we had the first (and last due to violence) annual Reunion of my family and my Dad's cousin's family. I saw my step second cousin there. I went up to her and said "You probably don't remember me . . . "

"Oh! I remember you! Pretzel bucket, right?!"


We actually became good friends after that and hung around for years. Hanging with a girl of this caliber does not help you get chicks.


At 11:59 PM, Blogger rachel said...

Being a gazillion miles away from all the people I grew up with is a double edged sword. Most of the time I am happy that I don't run into anyone from my days of, well, pretzel buckets. Once in a while I wish I had someone with which I could reminisce like that about the old days. But not really that often. ;)

At 9:58 AM, Blogger radio gnome said...

(and last due to violence)

ROTFLMAO - priceless. Never had any family reunions myself, but I can just picture this happening.

Obligatory (by now) Izzard reference:

"Thanks Grandad"

p.s. I think we need a picture of stunning step second. Uh . . . woof!

At 9:01 PM, Blogger Melissa said...

saw your post on my friend dillon's blog....

ah, the pretzel bucket. my first night in a bar with a fake id, i drank multiple long islands and "looked under the table" to puke in my coat. it was february, 12 degrees out and i was wearing a cute little tank top. it was also a mile to my dorm, so i had to make the difficult choice of freeze...or...yeah, i wore the coat home.

your story reminds me of clerks, too
dante: but i thought you hate people?
randall: yet i love gatherings. ironic, isn't it.

ok, enough input from a totally random person. i like reading your blog, though.

At 9:10 PM, Blogger Deathlok said...

Thanks Melissa!

And, again ironically, I generally do hate people.

I think your "coat" story tops mine in that I left the pretzel bucket at the B&B.

At 3:59 PM, Blogger Wyatt Earp said...

Funniest story . . . ever! Heh, pretzel bucket.

At 11:11 PM, Blogger grimjack said...

In our defense, Jim and I tried to wake you up, and you wouldn't budge. We figured it's not like someone was going to take you. After all, we probably parked a couple blocks away from South St. I think we locked the doors and cracked a window. We're talking Jim's Steaks here. Had this been post Weekend at Bernies, we probably would have just carried you around with us.

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