Monday, July 24, 2006

The Company You Keep

Sometimes it seems like people act differently depending on their surroundings. Say you have a friend, Hawkman for instance, and he is totally opposed to playing cards. He won't come over for a poker game without the old lady. He won't even play a game of spades or hearts as couples. Then this friend moves out of state and he becomes MR. HEARTS, playing coed during the week, even partner (card partner) swapping on the weekend. That would only lead me to believe he did like cards, just not the surroundings.

Sorry for that little rant. Today I get a call that the next round of the tennis tournament is being scheduled for this week. First my opponent keeps changing. I think since I am out of the office, the rest of them gather round and decide who is playing the best that week and that is my opponent. I mean, why did I bust my ass whooping them down for the last three months???? To play the weaker people in the bracket first, let the other heavyweights knock themselves out and face a tired opponent in the finals. Makes sense, doesn't it? Seriously, do the number one seeds in football and baseball get toyed with because the 6th seed is out of town? Or the 5th seed has an ingrown toenail? I don't think so. But no need crying over spilled milk. The set em up, I knock em down. Mini Les you are next.

Funny story. Over the weekend, I am trying to find out the prices on a bushel of crabs. I am in the car and don't have the number but am pretty sure what it is. I have bad reception but I hear the dude mumble something like Crab Shack. The conversation goes like this.
Me: You got crabs today?
Crab dude: Am I open today? Yes, at noon.
Damn crappy reception.
Me: How much for a bushel?
Crab dude: No, we have no specials today.
Shit. Reception sucks. I hang up and call back when I am closer to civilization.
Me: How much for a bushel?
Crab dude: How much for a bushel of what?
Me getting pissed: Of crabs. (I wanted to add, asshole but I refrained.)
Crab dude: Dude, you want the Crab Shack. You called the Snack Shack.
Time for a new phone.


In an hour or two either me or one of my buddies is going to climb a 40 foot ladder and fix a piece on my roof. Whatcha wanna bet that it is not my Syrian ass climbing that friggin ladder. I will try to get pictures. 40 foot ladder?? Dude is insane.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

Hey, you give a guy enough beer (not the cheap stuff) and he'll knock people outta the way to climb that ladder. Can't wait for photos!