After work yesterday I met my friend Bert** for a couple of beers at Union Jack's, which is one of my favorite Knoxville bars for the sole reason that it's open late on Christmas Eve. I've never actually gone there on Christmas Eve, but it's definitely on my list of things to do.
What I love about Bert is that something like 95% of people who meet him are just a little bit afraid of him. Think Steve Buscemi's character in Billy Madison. You just know he has a hit list somewhere, and you're praying that you're not on it.
In reality, Bert is one of the nicest people I've ever met, and once I got to know him I realized just how ridiculous it is that at one point I was almost positive that it was actually him who shot JFK and not that Lee Harvey Oswald guy. (Never mind the fact that Bert was 18 years away from even being born when that happened.) Now, it's an endless source of entertainment for me to give him shit about his scary demeanor, knowing full well that he would never hurt a fly.
In fact, just last night he told me that, unlike most of his bloodthirsty hunting friends (including LaToya's husband Zed), Bert has only killed one animal in his life, and that was when he accidentally ran over a squirrel with his car. In Bert's words, "I felt really bad that he [the squirrel] was lying there in pain, so I ran over him again to put him out of his misery." I'm not sure this would hold up in court, but it sounded good to me.
After letting Bert beat me in both darts and pool (riiiiight), I figured it was time to call it a night, but not before I made a quick stop at the grocery store for some essentials (namely, toilet paper). Note to self: Going to the grocery store with a three-beer buzz is not the most productive use of my time or money. I did manage to get the TP, but I also came home with a frozen pizza, a can of Pringles, some honey roasted cashews, and more beer. Too bad I had to consume all of that by myself when I got home.***
*And especially on the Monday before St. Patrick's Day? Me, apparently.
**He hates that I call him that on here. Which just makes me want to do it more. Bert, Bert, Bert.
***No, I didn't eat all of that food. Just a little of each item. What can I say, I like finger foods. Think Cher in Mermaids.
Tuesday, March 17, 2009
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1 comments:
I have an ex who went by Bert when we dated but goes by Rob now. He once told me, 'we couldn't be together now because you know me as Bert.' No, we couldn't be together because he was an ass. :)
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