Boy did I pick a bad time to start this Top Five. Right in the middle of the NCAA basketball tournament? What was I thinking? I may as well have signed up for a swimming class the same week I get my period. I mean yesterday I didn’t come close to registering on the scale of productivity, even by my low standards. I came into the office, finished filling out my brackets, went to a free food / free drink event hosted by CBS at Planet Hollywood (more on that later), came back to the office drunk and watched basketball on my computer for the remainder of the day. They’re not kidding when they call it March Madness. My boss was maaad!
On top of that, I’m leaving work today in about, oh, 45 minutes (total time in office: 2 hours) to take The Girlfriend out to Long Island to have laser corrective surgery on her eyes. Why Long Island? Well for one it’s the same place where I had mine done, and for another I don’t want my girlfriend getting a laser shot into her eye by some guy who advertises on the subway. What if he makes a mistake and she goes blind? That would be a horrible way for our relationship to end. So, follow the rule of thumb: When lasers are involved, go with someone you trust.
Another rule of thumb: When drunk, avoid your office if at all possible. Because all the same rules apply as when you’re home and drunk (e.g. craving pizza, want to call girlfriend for sex, sit in the same spot for ten minutes “deciding what you should do,” etc.) but instead of being home where you can do these things, you’re at work where a whole other set of rules apply, ones like “no slurring your speech” and “no taking naps,” rules that are obviously counter to everything a good drunk holds sacred.
Still, I couldn’t pass up the opportunity for the free spread, courtesy of CBS via my “entertainment” friend John, who never ceases to amaze me when he walks into a room full of 500 people and immediately starts doing the “touch the person’s elbow from behind” thing because he knows everyone in a ten foot radius. Although a bit of the aura wore off when we were looking for a seat and he found a couple of empty chairs at a table where a large black dude and his friend wearing a do-rag were already sitting. John walks over, obviously knowing the large black dude, and starts talking to him. We sit down, eat our food, and leave when we’re done. When I ask John how he knew that guy, if he was some kind of singer or entertainer, he replies, “He’s the doorman at my office. I have no clue what he’s doing here.”
We hung around for about an hour and a half, finally deciding that staying any longer would require us calling our offices and telling them that we were hit by cabs on our lunch breaks and wouldn’t be able to return for the remainder of the day. As we were walking out, like a siren singing to me off the shore of some remote island, a waitress in a miniskirt walked by with a tray full of assorted beer bottles.
This, my friends, is the epitome of free booze. No open bar where you feel bad not tipping, not even an oversized cooler full of beer for the taking, but scantily clad women walking around HANDING it to you, like it’s intrinsic selling points weren’t enough, they felt it necessary to add sex and convenience. I looked at John like a son looking to his father while leaving an arcade, pleading with my eyes “Just on more game?” But John was strong, and I merely walked away saying, “Just so you know, this is contrary to everything I believe in.” I made it back to work with plenty of time to write a blog post, but about 10% of the ambition. So, alas, this Top Five will carry over into next week when the basketball games will be less frequent.
Speaking of basketball games (I’m glad someone brought it up) if I have any readers in the San Diego area, I need a favor. I need someone to drive over to San Diego State University and find a guy named Brandon Heath and scream in his face “PROTECT THE BALL!” Then I need you to go over and find the rest of the basketball team and teach them how to set a pick. Don’t worry if you have no basketball experience, it’s one of the most elementary plays in the game. I learned it in the third grade; hopefully these college players can pick up on it. Then, if you have the time, collect $20 from them to refund the entry fee on the bracket they ruined for me by losing last night – incidentally the same bracket I filled out for the office pool for The Girlfriend, who called me this morning to say, “You really fucked us with San Diego State.” Thanks, I would appreciate it.