Last night, I was sitting having a beer with a couple of my neighbors while their wives were out, and one of them commented that he'd noticed this had been a particularly late night week for me. Even more so than usual. I mean, typically, once or twice during the week I'll be out at the bar until midnight or 1am. And then of course the weekend is more of the same. But this week, every night I was out somewhere. Our street is a pretty quiet one, full of married couples and old retired people, and from what I can gather, they all lead pretty tame suburban lives. Work, come home to their wife/husband, sleep, repeat. And then there's me, the wild young single guy, out partying and barrelling down the street in The Colorado going 45 MPH as he gets home at 1:30 am.
One of the guys had the gall -- or guts -- to say he was jealous of me. This guy is married to the most adorable girl, drives an old busted Ford pickup, has a beautiful golden retriever, and best of all, he lives across the street from me. What more do you need? Apparently, I'm a rock star to these guys. Its so pathetic. And sad. And yet awesome all at the same time.
To be fair, this was my week, or my nights, more specifically:
Monday night last, we recorded the second episode of the BeA DesignCast. Afterward, I went out to Tailgators for wings and beers and Monday Night Football. Tuesday night, we sat at Volleyball, and with a bye week, sat around and had a couple beers at the complex. Wednesday night I had a board meeting right after work. Thursday night, I went to Billy Frogg's straight from the office, and left at bar time after many many beers and fish and chips and other things of that nature. Friday night, I boycotted Harry Potter -- I have never seen the first two films, never will, and there's nothing you or anyone else can do about it -- and went to see Walk The Line. Johnny Cash kicks ass. Saturday, Creighton played in the afternoon, after which I came home and watched Iowa-Minnesota on Tivo-delay. Then I headed out to the casino with a huge group -- there were 9 of us -- where we had dinner at the Amerisports Bar and watched #3 Miami get upset by Georgia Tech. Then I, ahem, I lost $25 in a story I frankly don't want to rehash.
From the casino, we went to the My Way, where we played shuffle board and drank cheap pitchers into the night, until 1:15 when they closed up. There is nothing better than dive bars, cheap beer, and shuffle board is there? I doubt it. Only if someone plays Cake's version of "I Will Survive" on the jukebox. Then its better. And that totally happened Saturday night. Dominant.
So maybe I am bad ass after all. But don't be jealous of me. Please.
I just won't tell you that we're going out to watch the Vikings on Monday Night Football tonight, as well as the Iowa basketball team against Kentucky. Or that I'll be out after Volleyball Tuesday night partying it up. That will probably make you insane.
James and Steve, if its any consolation, I'll stop over and have a drink before heading home for Thanksgiving, and tell you all about it so you live vicariously through me. You supply the beer, I'll supply the life, in the form of stories. Sounds like a winner to me!
You bet.
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