The Birthday Trauma

Jim, our waiter and recent receiver of free shots (that we’d paid for, because Jim was a way-cool waiter and we wanted him to drink with the 7 of us), had served me my Mojo and the rest of the crew had their drinks (Grey Goose and tonic, Sam Adams, Maker’s Mark, etc., etc.). We’d eaten way too much BBQ earlier and the remnants of my jerk beef + pulled chicken were sealed in their take-out tomb.

We’d toasted everything from my buddy’s birthday to nerds to friends to life to Jim. I knew I had to leave because I had to get up much too early for work (if there’s anything I miss from my old gig, it would be the fact that I could show up at 10:00am), so I backed off my bourbon and beer regimen to prepare for the ride home. Soon, I said my goodbyes, bestowed my “happy birthday” wishes once more and made my way up the stairs from the basement of Redbones to my car and out of the city.

Then I got home. Uncharacteristally, my roommate was up late watching “Mystic River” on cable. Characteristically, I had beer in the fridge. I grabbed a couple of 16 ounce champs and headed to my room. Then the tragedy…

I dropped a can.

Oh dear God, I dropped a can.

It landed on carpet…

It rolled under my bed…

It broke open…

A quarter of its life was spent…

UNDER MY GODDAMN BED!

What a pain in the ass this is going to be to clean up and deodorize. Goddamnit.

At least I drank the last 3/4 of a beer that I salvaged by running the broken can back to my bathroom.

Dammit. Cleaning is going to wait. I’ve got another beer to savor. Bastards.

This entry was posted on Tuesday, October 11th, 2005 at 11:26pm and is filed under News. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response or trackback from your own site.