I met a few characters on the way home tonight.
All working class guys.
All bar flies.
How the hell do they know me?
Number one :
“Only the blind and the assholes wear sunglasses at a bar.”
I took one look at him, and said: “Yeah, ok, so what’s that on your head?”
He didn’t respond, so I said: “‘When did you go blind?”
Next: A little girl and her daddy, on their way to a hockey game.
Her mommy, who is divorced from daddy, entered the bar.
The little girl played her cards.
She is in control, as Dad and Mom compete for her affection.
Too bad, neither one never learned to say, “NO.”
Mom gives the ex Dad and the little girl hockey tickets.
The little girl runs out of the bar, in a rant, leaving the tickets on the table.
What the hell?
Our children don’t need friends, as parents.
They need parents as parents.
Open heart surgery.
Rarely comes out at night, anymore.
Ordered a beer …. and another…. and another…
Enters Bill, the story teller.
I had to introduce them.
Todd is at the bar, drinking shots.
He asks me what is shaking.
He always asks me that.
I look at Colleen.
Hey Todd, you hunk a hunk of burning love.
It doesn’t matter.
Todd has his highs and lows.
Depends on his moods.
A stranger enters.
I welcome him to the bar.
He says he recognizes me.
Oh maybe not me, but my laugh.
Was I at the Cracker Barrel last week?
I can’t remember where I was yesterday.
I order one more drink, and slink out of the bar.
I don’t want that handsome kid in the red, white and blue jacket to walk by me again.
I might attack him.
What a handsome dude
Ok, I am home.
Do you think I should change my lifestyle?
Leave work at 5pm and come right home?
Hey, forget I asked.
I would rather “work” late every night and enjoy the ridiculous people I meet along the way.
What a wonderful time we always have.