a falafel-astrophe
Oh christ. That title is so weak. My apologies.
We're having some shit weather here in Denver today. It's really cold and when it's not raining it's all misty and shit. Nast.
I didn't want to have to walk very far to get my lunch today so I just went one block over to the Republic Plaza Food Court to get some yummy yummy Falafel King. About a year ago, I became addicted to the meat salad with chicken and extra falafel. I ate it every day. Until my digestive system almost shut down, and I was forced to stop. Now I enjoy it in moderation – like once a month or so.
When I was in line to order today, a woman at the front of the line bumped into the multi-piece black plastic thingy that holds all the forks, knives, toothpicks, salt & pepper packets, mints, etc. It came down with a mighty CRASH that made everyone jump. She got this real strange look on her face – a mix of fear, annoyance, embarrassment, anger – all layered on type of appearing as if she were about to cry. Then she immediately slunk away without apologizing or offering to help clean up the mess. So I got down on all fours (WOOF!) to help the Falafel King chick help clean up. It seemed like the nice thing to do, and there was a lot of shit to pick up.
Then, feeling like I'd helped to make the world a little better place, I grabbed my bag of food and came back to the office. But when I opened up my salad there was no falafel! My falafel was nowhere to be seen! D'oh!
So out I trekked again in the shitty weather, walked past the annoying begging woman who doesn't like to take "no" for an answer for the third time, and back down to the Food Court. They gave me my falafel, but with attitude, and a rather callous and obvious joke inspired by my saying "I need my balls." And then they didn't even offer me a free meal or beverage or SOMETHING for all my trouble. Shenanigans!
Still it was delicious and totally worth all the trouble, if a bit cold, by the time I sat down to eat.
It appears that the weekend is shaping up to be pretty sweet.
I've heard gay underground whisperings that B. is still in town. Of course, the twat hasn't bothered to call or text me since I last saw him on Saturday, but that's his usual M.O. So I'm hoping to maybe see him tonight. If not, I'm sure I'll still be able to find some trouble.
Yesterday I got a random message on connexions from a guy I've hooked up with a couple times. I guess he's the closest thing I have to a fuck buddy, cuz I don't think either of us is really interested in a romantic relationship, but we get along really well and really get each other's motors running. He wrote that he got some really good bud down in New Mexico and he'd like to have me over for a little smoke session ASAP. I of course accepted, and now we're going to make an evening out of it on Saturday – grab a drink or two, hit a couple parties, stop by The Church for a little V.I.P. birthday party, then go back to his place. Do I sense an imminent end to my depressing dry spell? Yes. Yes I do.
Sunday is my friend's baby shower. It's co-ed, but I may be the only guy attending. That's cool with me. I love hanging with chicks. I crashed my sister's baby shower a few years back. That was pretty hilarious. All my aunts and cousins and my mom and sister and all their friends were there getting drunk (well, not my sister, obviously) and they were rowdy! One of my mom's best friends (who I've known ever since I can remember) screamed out when I arrived, "WOOOO! The stripper has arrived!" and started pulling at my clothes. *shiver*
Anyway, last April on G.'s birthday we had dinner with the expectant mother (E.M.), then went to a couple bars. I probably bought the E.M. three or four tequila shots that night, on top of all the wine we had with dinner and all the beers we later consumed.
The next week we found out she was pregnant. My first thought when I heard the news was "Oh jesus – I've deformed the precious little fetus!"
Others have since explained to me that the baby is most likely perfectly OK, but until I see the little sucker with all ten toes and fingers and non-crossed eyes and such for myself I'm still living with that hanging over my head.
And that's about it. I also need to rest up and get a lot sleep to prepare to go to Minneapolis next weekend. I'm ready to party and watch another single friend bite the dust!
Ya'll be safe this weekend now, ya hear?
We're having some shit weather here in Denver today. It's really cold and when it's not raining it's all misty and shit. Nast.
I didn't want to have to walk very far to get my lunch today so I just went one block over to the Republic Plaza Food Court to get some yummy yummy Falafel King. About a year ago, I became addicted to the meat salad with chicken and extra falafel. I ate it every day. Until my digestive system almost shut down, and I was forced to stop. Now I enjoy it in moderation – like once a month or so.
When I was in line to order today, a woman at the front of the line bumped into the multi-piece black plastic thingy that holds all the forks, knives, toothpicks, salt & pepper packets, mints, etc. It came down with a mighty CRASH that made everyone jump. She got this real strange look on her face – a mix of fear, annoyance, embarrassment, anger – all layered on type of appearing as if she were about to cry. Then she immediately slunk away without apologizing or offering to help clean up the mess. So I got down on all fours (WOOF!) to help the Falafel King chick help clean up. It seemed like the nice thing to do, and there was a lot of shit to pick up.
Then, feeling like I'd helped to make the world a little better place, I grabbed my bag of food and came back to the office. But when I opened up my salad there was no falafel! My falafel was nowhere to be seen! D'oh!
So out I trekked again in the shitty weather, walked past the annoying begging woman who doesn't like to take "no" for an answer for the third time, and back down to the Food Court. They gave me my falafel, but with attitude, and a rather callous and obvious joke inspired by my saying "I need my balls." And then they didn't even offer me a free meal or beverage or SOMETHING for all my trouble. Shenanigans!
Still it was delicious and totally worth all the trouble, if a bit cold, by the time I sat down to eat.
It appears that the weekend is shaping up to be pretty sweet.
I've heard gay underground whisperings that B. is still in town. Of course, the twat hasn't bothered to call or text me since I last saw him on Saturday, but that's his usual M.O. So I'm hoping to maybe see him tonight. If not, I'm sure I'll still be able to find some trouble.
Yesterday I got a random message on connexions from a guy I've hooked up with a couple times. I guess he's the closest thing I have to a fuck buddy, cuz I don't think either of us is really interested in a romantic relationship, but we get along really well and really get each other's motors running. He wrote that he got some really good bud down in New Mexico and he'd like to have me over for a little smoke session ASAP. I of course accepted, and now we're going to make an evening out of it on Saturday – grab a drink or two, hit a couple parties, stop by The Church for a little V.I.P. birthday party, then go back to his place. Do I sense an imminent end to my depressing dry spell? Yes. Yes I do.
Sunday is my friend's baby shower. It's co-ed, but I may be the only guy attending. That's cool with me. I love hanging with chicks. I crashed my sister's baby shower a few years back. That was pretty hilarious. All my aunts and cousins and my mom and sister and all their friends were there getting drunk (well, not my sister, obviously) and they were rowdy! One of my mom's best friends (who I've known ever since I can remember) screamed out when I arrived, "WOOOO! The stripper has arrived!" and started pulling at my clothes. *shiver*
Anyway, last April on G.'s birthday we had dinner with the expectant mother (E.M.), then went to a couple bars. I probably bought the E.M. three or four tequila shots that night, on top of all the wine we had with dinner and all the beers we later consumed.
The next week we found out she was pregnant. My first thought when I heard the news was "Oh jesus – I've deformed the precious little fetus!"
Others have since explained to me that the baby is most likely perfectly OK, but until I see the little sucker with all ten toes and fingers and non-crossed eyes and such for myself I'm still living with that hanging over my head.
And that's about it. I also need to rest up and get a lot sleep to prepare to go to Minneapolis next weekend. I'm ready to party and watch another single friend bite the dust!
Ya'll be safe this weekend now, ya hear?
posted by denverco at 3:38 PM
2 Comments:
I had about 10 comments come forth (like Damian) while reading this, but now all I remember is that you're coming to Minneapolis. Is that Friday or Saturday? One of my most favorite wild women turns 40 on Friday and cute blogger from Des Moines is here on Saturday? Care to join in any of it??
Sounds good!! Gimme a call...The lady who turns 40 is crazy - and so is our mutual friend, Danny, whom I've blogged about.
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