Archive for the 'Mamba Moments' Category

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A Moment in Time: The Best Worst Date.

A few years back I worked as a bartender at a local watering hole.  We were never particularly busy, but we did manage to create a loyal following of businessmen looking for a buzz and a quick lunch during the week.  Let’s call this bar Madness (since that is pretty much all that went on there).  One day one of my favorite Regulars mentioned that he and a co-worker had been in for a drink on an unusually busy happy hour, and this co-worker was interested in taking me out for dinner.  I asked a few preliminary questions (Is he bald? Is he tall? Does he live with his mom?) and told Regular to give him my phone number.  I was going through a serial dating phase in my life.

A couple of days later (gotta play by the rules, boys, I know) I got a mysterious call from a boy named D.  (Of course I’m not going to reveal his real name.)  D seemed nice enough and witty enough, so we decided to have a night out later that week.  

Seeing as this was, in fact, a BLIND date, and my girlfriend Tits was ALSO going on a blind date that same evening, we decided it best that the boys pick us up from her place, and we could then meet up at her place after the dates were over.  This also gave us the opportunity to save each other should either of our dates turn out not-so-good.  

Tits’ boy picked her up and all seemed normal on his end.  Then D arrived.  As I opened the door to greet him, the first thing I noticed were the roses he was carrying in his hand.  No, no, that’s not really true.  The first thing I noticed was the scent of his cologne overpowering the entryway.  Then the flowers.  Then, the suit he was wearing.  And, wait a second, he’s BALD!  And shorter than me!  Damn you, Regular customer!  Knowing there was no way out at this point, I invited him in for the four of us to have a glass of wine before going on our separate blind dates.  I cursed myself for being shallow and decided to give D a real try.  It was then that D gave me THE LETTER, and said, “Hold onto this for after our date.”  Aww, how cute, I thought.  Mm-hmm.

With that, we were off.

About 20 minutes later as we drove to the restaurant for dinner, we got stuck at a railroad crossing.  The following conversation ensued:

D: “Sooo, I’ve been thinking about this date all week.”

Mamba (in my oh-so-seductive tone): “I know…the anticipation has been killing me.” 

D: “I thought to myself, ‘This date can go one of two ways.’  One, I can come off really sweet and kind and we’ll have a great time…” (at this point he reaches behind the passenger seat and pulls out a can of whipped cream) “…in which case you can spray this all over me and, if I’m lucky, lick it off.”

M (Wondering why he’s reaching behind the passenger seat again, but still trying to be seductive): “Well that sounds like a great date if I -”

D (Interrupting me): “OR, I can come off really corny and cheesy, in which case…” (pulls a can of E-Z Cheese from behind the seat) “…spray this cheese all over me and walk away!”

Now.  I don’t know how most people would react to this.  I know that I, personally, started laughing.  Of course he thought I was laughing WITH him, but no, that was definitely not the case.  I knew, at that very moment, that this was the last time I would ever be on a date with D.  Poor guy, he had no idea.  Was I honest with him, telling him I thought he was being cheesy?  Or better yet, grab that can of e-z cheese and start spraying like a graffiti artist?  Nope, instead I went with him to the restaurant, had some dinner and more than one martini.  

Afterwards, as luck would have it, Tits was pulling up JUST as we were arriving at her house and, being the gracious host she is, invited D and her date in for some more wine.  GREAT.

After a glass or two, it seemed that D was having a grand old time, and I saw his eye catch THE LETTER that was sitting on the counter.  

D: “Hey, hey, wait!  I wrote Mamba something, and I want to read it!”

Us: “Wha?”

D: “Yea!  I want you all to hear it!”

Now, remember, it was me, my friend Tits, her date, and D.  Sitting in a kitchen drinking wine and THIS GUY wants to read a letter.  OUT LOUD.  TO EVERYONE.  

Who were we to stop him?

D (picking up THE LETTER): “Here goes!  Mamba, By the time you have read this note we have been on our first excursion.  We will have some minor, and some major impressions developed of each others personality traits, and characteristics. Pro, or con, I wanted to tell you the time I spent with you via the telephone will be cherished to take with me forever!!!  This other piece of paper represents our future.  Right now it is blank.  The paper will remain blank or it will become the opening paragraph.  A paragraph to a slow and developed first story.  A story to look back on as we stare into each others eyes and laugh.  Let’s see if we can fill this letter thru infinity. D”

I’ve transcribed the letter exactly for you, internet, right down to the abbreviated “thru.”  Yes, there was an extra, blank piece of paper.  It was written on stationary that has HIS NAME ON IT.  He had even thought enough to douse the letter with his cologne for me, something I thank him for to this day since I can still smell it lingering.  Yes, I still have THE LETTER.  

A short while after we had all gained our composure we said our goodnights and went our separate ways.  Tits and I had a great laugh and went to bed.  A few days later, Regular came in for lunch at the bar with a HUGE smile on his face saying how D was floating through the office gloating at how wonderful a date he had been on.  I looked Regular right in the face and said:

“You tell D to lose my number.”

Shocked, he asked, “WHY?!?”

I grabbed THE LETTER out of my purse, slammed it on the bar and said, “THAT’s why.  And he read it in public.  To my friends.  After our FIRST DATE.  Tell him, lose Mamba’s number.”

He read the letter, put it down and said, “Ok.”  I can’t even begin to imagine what he said to D when he got back to the office.  I never saw either of them again.

The Best Worst Date

 

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Why Free Food Causes Bad Spelling

Or, I’m Too Lazy To Double-Check My Work.

On Saturday mornings I like to wake up early and take a walk to the muffin store down the street to get the coffee. There are about seventy-four coffee shops in my neighborhood, and for some reason this particular one is my favorite. Maybe it’s because it’s not technically a “coffee shop.” It doesn’t matter. Let’s move on.

On one of said mornings I took notice of a sign outside a recently opened bar. Check it out:

Sweet, right!?! I’m always down for free pizza. I snapped a picture so I wouldn’t forget, and walked on to the muffin store.

On my way home, as I was passing the bar-with-the-free-pizza I took a better look at the place, and noticed that they were wise enough to paint not one, but BOTH sides of the sign with their wonderful gimmick.

Something was amiss, however. Observe:

Need a better look? Can’t see the difference yet?? Here you go:

Now, come on. This kind of shit pisses me off. “Purches?” Who painted these freakin’ things? I mean, seriously!? Fucking spell check! HOW HARD IS IT PEOPLE?

These signs have since been replaced with nice new railings, and no longer is there evidence of the spelling crime. The first time I noticed they were no longer there I thought to myself, “Thank god those signs are gone! Now no one else will remember that they serve FREE PIZZA with drink purches purchase.”

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You Down With O.C.D.?

I always carry a notebook with me wherever I go. I feel naked without one, and become anxious if ever I find that I’ve forgotten one. Like that day will be the day that I think up THE BEST IDEA EVER, but will not have anywhere to write it down so I will forget it and then I’ll be DOOMED FOR ALL ETERNITY. Get real. But seriously, I always have one with me. In said notebook, I only write in pencil.

Why, you ask, do I always write in pencil?

Because, my friends, I am the type of person that if I write something down, and I think my handwriting looks ugly, I need to either erase everything and start all over, or CHUCK THE ENTIRE PAGE ALTOGETHER. That’s how I roll.

You down wit OCD? Yeah, you know me! Who’s down wit OCD?….

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