Whoops. So I'm sitting here with the biggest cup of coffee possible - lotsa cream lotsa sugar - trying to gulp it down as fast as possible so the ride up to NH is bareable (side note - NH should be two states. North New Hampshire and South New Hampshire. They really are logically and socially separate already, why not give them different states??).. I'm on time - early even - and sitting around waiting for my ride. 7:30am. It's not coming. I wait. 5 min. late... 8 min late..
You'd think business trips were more succinct. All clipped speech, quick instructions, polished shoes, and starch.. especially at the beginning - before the devolution into the sneaking beers right before lunch.. before happy hour.. before the shots and the strip clubs.. this is the time when business is still at the forefront of thought.. the time before the ADD kicks in and the little boys in their suits go running like chimps into the buffet, hooting and hollering and throwing lewd comments around like they were going out of style. This is the not so happy hour.
If bars really knew what they were doing they'd have not so happy hour specials. I mean hell, if I'm so f'ing happy, why would I be worried about getting good deals on my drinks? Am I wrong, or is this a major marketing snafu on the part of franchised watering holes everywhere? Think about it.. you're just out of work. You're tired and cranky but actually really happy that the day is over and you just want a drink. Are you really worried about the price? The last memory you have in your head is working. The last memory you have is of making money. It's not too much of a leap.. a few synapses, really.. to jump to spending that money instead of earning it. No.. not at all. We need not so happy hours. 5 to 8 am. 25 cent drafts and $2.50 mixed drinks. Two for ones and Heineken specials. PBR, served in a can, for $1 all morning long. Free flaming sambucas for the ladies in the back booth.
12 min late... 15 min late... Then I get a call.
Whoops. Guess my partner in crime, my marketing dude, my sales guy - his wife had an appendectomy this morning at 3am. 3am, if introduced from a dead sleep, is not such a happy hour either - especially when you're about to get some of your innards pulled out.
How is that for fouling plans? Now I don't even know if I'm going. It's like a bad Chevy Chase movie. Richard Pryor maybe. Maybe I can weasel my way into a nice quiet day in front of the computer.. (oh wait, I do that every day.. what about variety? spice? I should go.. why don't I go?) but I don't know if I'll have to go. I don't know if I want to go. Golf, huh? Golf. I haven't played that in a year at least.
But I'm rambling.. can't you tell? I was trying to give you a nice long post this morning.. leave you all with a big fat gob of gooey to at least get your hands dirty.. the beauty, of course, is that you won't know it's all a bunch of bunk till you get down here to end.
Ha.
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the guys: philogynist jaime tony - the gals:raymi raspil
