So this weekend was pretty uneventful, due to major storms,
boredome, poordome, people canceling, general lack of interest
of what I do and so on and so forth. How's that for a run on
sentence.
I find myself amazed at how much my A.D.D. affects me in
general situations, it's like a shark let loose in a fiesta,
constantly moving. I have to keep going or I'll just start
spiraling down in boredom and the creepy black hole of
depression starts to soak up my brain.
Anyways, this friday, hung out with some people that know
people that I hardly know. Which always makes it completely
uncomfortable for me. I always feel like I have to be on,
when in actuality no one really gives a shit.
That is a tale for another time. What's more important, is the
introduction to that tale. So i was summoned to RADEGAST beer
hall, in Williamsburg Brooklyn. Where forearmed sized mugs of ale
will set you back about 14 bucks. It's a nice little spot to chat
with friends, get to know knew people, oggle the beerwenches.
So as I make my way to the bar, my friend, has not arrived yet, and I
circle the two areas about two times. Later on I would find
out that the people I was supposed to sit with were already laughing
and joking, completely oblivious to who I was and
vice versa.
So on one go around, I head to the bathroom, and take out my
illegally opened container of alcohol and ... oh nevermind.
SO, I'm waiting in the restroom waiting for any available slots.
Some inebriated guy comes by, and he's looking nervous.
I'm just avoiding eye contact. Then he does that usual, dance of
anxiety. So I try to give that reassuring nod of, "I know. I know."
He's like "My friends in the stall, but I see four feet"
So I look closely at the bottom of the occupied stall, and sure enough,
there were two people inside, or a shaved deer with vans.
I was like oohhh, snap.. there's a hook up going on. I realize how
terribly empty my life is... then the door jolts open.
The most zestiest man with light eyes, orange-iest tan and
bleached hair steps out...
and announces
"Hello my name is SPARTACUS"
I can only assume he was homosexual because not only
was he dressed better than I (which is not hard to do)
He twinkled like those vampires from TWILIGHT.
the anxious guy had a look of fear on his face, and I figured
there was no chick in that stall. I promptly spun around, because
magically I didn't have to go anymore. Stepped out the restroom and
hightailed it.
Back into the brouhaha, I finally met with some people,
was already drunk, but due to my A.D.D. and lack of
women, and the prospect of early work the next
day, I dejectedly called it a night.
Lest you people think I am homophobic,
I am not. I'm just not cool with dudes
that call themselves after 1950
Kirk Douglas films.
(My gay friends will agree to this)
So godspeed to you, Spartacus, whomever you are,
you had more action than I got, I will think twice
about going into any stall from now on.
To affect my life is like to affect others
on the heels of rosa parks, J.F.K.,
Neda and Obama.
introduction to that tale. So i was summoned to RADEGAST beer
hall, in Williamsburg Brooklyn. Where forearmed sized mugs of ale
will set you back about 14 bucks. It's a nice little spot to chat
with friends, get to know knew people, oggle the beerwenches.
So as I make my way to the bar, my friend, has not arrived yet, and I
circle the two areas about two times. Later on I would find
out that the people I was supposed to sit with were already laughing
and joking, completely oblivious to who I was and
vice versa.
So on one go around, I head to the bathroom, and take out my
illegally opened container of alcohol and ... oh nevermind.
SO, I'm waiting in the restroom waiting for any available slots.
Some inebriated guy comes by, and he's looking nervous.
I'm just avoiding eye contact. Then he does that usual, dance of
anxiety. So I try to give that reassuring nod of, "I know. I know."
He's like "My friends in the stall, but I see four feet"
So I look closely at the bottom of the occupied stall, and sure enough,
there were two people inside, or a shaved deer with vans.
I was like oohhh, snap.. there's a hook up going on. I realize how
terribly empty my life is... then the door jolts open.
The most zestiest man with light eyes, orange-iest tan and
bleached hair steps out...
and announces
"Hello my name is SPARTACUS"
I can only assume he was homosexual because not only
was he dressed better than I (which is not hard to do)
He twinkled like those vampires from TWILIGHT.
the anxious guy had a look of fear on his face, and I figured
there was no chick in that stall. I promptly spun around, because
magically I didn't have to go anymore. Stepped out the restroom and
hightailed it.
Back into the brouhaha, I finally met with some people,
was already drunk, but due to my A.D.D. and lack of
women, and the prospect of early work the next
day, I dejectedly called it a night.
Lest you people think I am homophobic,
I am not. I'm just not cool with dudes
that call themselves after 1950
Kirk Douglas films.
(My gay friends will agree to this)
So godspeed to you, Spartacus, whomever you are,
you had more action than I got, I will think twice
about going into any stall from now on.
To affect my life is like to affect others
on the heels of rosa parks, J.F.K.,
Neda and Obama.
