Monday, April 24, 2006

5' 6"

-B

I’m an introvert. Well, I if I get introduced to someone, I’ll go through the usual motions and indulge in the brief mindless chit chat that ensues after an introduction. But aside from this, when I’m at clubs, I’m just a total introvert. I’m that guy you see at a club who stands there trying really hard to look comfortable, who bobs his head up and down to the music, but is very obviously a complete and total weirdo. I’ve accepted this, and I’ve also accepted the fact that everyone on God’s green earth is completely aware of this. So I end up doing the next best thing: I get so mind numbingly drunk that I forget the fact that I’m an introvert.

I’m a small guy, 5’ 6, about 145 pounds (of pure unadulterated steel cast god-muscles) but before I go out, I always have a 40 oz Coors light, or sometimes a bottle of red wine (sometimes both). Some people drink just this for the entire night, but for me, this is a pre-drink. Then comes the Jack and Cokes, oh the Jack and Cokes. I love those bartenders who fill like half the glass with Jack because that means I’ll only need like 5 to become incoherent.

When I’m drunk, I’m no longer 5’ 6. I’m fucking Yao Ming man. I’ll yell and spit when I talk, and you’ll fucking like it. I’ll complain and complain about how no one ever has anything interesting to say at bars anymore, but I’ll be slurring and swaying so profusely that it’ll come out in tongues. When I’m drunk, I’m the richest man at the bar, and not the modest rich guy, I’m talking about the arrogant, “throw your wad of singles at the bartender’s face” type of rich guy who buys all his friends a drink and charges it on his Master Card that’s teetering on the brink of extinction because of the fact that the bill hasn’t been paid since mom and dad decided that you were too old to support. But after a while it all begins fading, and that’s when I know it’s time to go home. Usually alone, but that’s all right. Because I’m fucking Yao Ming man.

Clubs suck when you’re 5’ 6. I mean, I’m not incredibly short, but in one of those posh NYC nightclubs, I’m a fucking midget. I like those Lower East Side dive bars because the people there are more realistic. They aren’t all giants, plus, they’re easier to talk to. Why is it that there are no midget nightclubs? I mean, you’ve got nightclubs for the gays, and just about every race you can think of. But where are the midget nightclubs? I would SO go to those, and I would SO be the man there. I’d just beat up all the midgets and take the finest midget home. So watch out man, if you’re a midget, you’re on my shitlist…

2 Comments:

Blogger Gamer C. said...

We need more drinking buddies like you where I live, seriously.

1:28 AM  
Blogger Dude! said...

dude I love you!

6:32 PM  

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