Sadly enough, I have a series of characters that only have one thing in common: they hang out at the bar enough that I know their life stories well enough that I knew which parts are complete bullshit. To start, we have the high school basketball star, BG. Now, I watched this guy play in high school. Those of you who know me know that I suck at basketball and care little for things even remotely basketball related. However, I know from witnessing the way that this guy played the game that he scored a lot of points but I also know that he scored a lot of points in the same way that Reggie Jackson hit a lot of home runs. Basically, he took a lot of shots and enough of them dropped that no one had the nerve to complain that he never passed the ball, ever. His teammates just waited for rebounds and that was the only way they ever saw the ball. The way he tells it though, he lets you know he scored over a thousand points in his career and that he was recruited to play college ball and that he was forced to transfer because the coach who recruited him was fired and that he tore his Achilles tendon and he was never the same. He frequently ends the story of his college career, which ended at Fairleigh Dickinson University (also known as Fairly Ridiculous University), by informing those around him that were it not for the injuries he "would have been a lottery pick." For those of you who don't know, lottery picks are awarded to the 14 NBA teams that do not make the playoffs, meaning this guy was one of the 14 best players around the world not already in the NBA in 2007. Look, I'm not going to hate too hard but I would have gotten drafted into the NFL if I didn't leave the football team at Richmond to concentrate on my academics or if I was stronger or faster or bigger or whatever else I could have been. I've played against dudes in the NFL, both in high school and in college and fact is, I wasn't good enough. Neither was this guy but at least I'm not lying to myself about it.
Next up is BG's father, who is worse than his son about his glory days. Not only does this guy relive his own glory days, he relives his son's, telling me about how he and his son are the only father-son combination to score 1000 points in basketball in the history of the State of New Jersey and possibly the nation. Worse than that, he also relives his BROTHER's glory days. Apparently, his brother was robbed of the Heisman by Pete Dawkins, a teammate of his on the Army football team. The assertion is just so ridiculous that it literally boggles the mind. I just hope I've accomplished something by the time I'm 60 so I don't have to vicariously relive the accomplishments of my life, my son's life, and my brother's life to be satisfied with my day.
Worse yet than either of these characters, is a former vice president of a Fortune 50 company who regularly comes in before noon and is sloshed before 3. I've heard that he made vice president before he was 30 about 1000 times. Worse than that, he brags about his time in the Navy, about all the money he made in the stock market (he comes in and drinks for a different reason these days), boasts about his pull with mayor of the town and town council (awesome dude, you are friends with the people in charge of running a town of 10,000, tell them I said hey next time you hit the country club), and about how he has written letters to our congressman Scott Garrett about a variety of topics from a nomination for the Naval Academy for his friend's son to the condition of the Turnpike. However, none of that is quite as creepy as the way he talks about his own son. I've heard people talk about their kids and most of their boasts are benign and nice but this guy is telling me about how his son has a man's shoulders at 12, "like 0% body fat," and "a nice V-shape" with "great lats." I was irritated when he kept telling me about his son having his county golf card but I was just plain FREAKED OUT when I had to hear about a 12 year old boy's lats from the cigarette-scented mouth of his vodka-swilling father.
When this guy keeps telling me he wants to write a letter for me because he sees me going places, all I want to do is tell this guy I'm not going to let him put his finger inside me so he'll tell all his friends I'm a great guy.
Only other time I was more uncomfortable at this job was when I helped one of our female regulars carry her leftovers to the car and she asked me to come back to her bed with her. Pushy, unattractive, older women are terrifying.
Song of the Week: “Mr. Wendal" by Arrested Development
Quote of the Week: “There are good days and there are bad days, and this is one of them.” - Lawrence Welk
Random Fact of the Week: You share your birthday with at least 9 million other people in the world.
Picture of the Week: Me fail English? That unpossible!
Until next crime, don't tell me no lies and keep your hands to yourself,
Nils
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