2 Days

Allow me to begin with my weekend recap and then I will get to the story of the weekend. Friday night, was a whole lot of nothing. I worked out. Went a bought a couple of shirts for Mexico and that was about it. I am usually the first one to point out my own faults and shortcomings. And admittedly I have pulled up a bit short. A little over a month ago, when we decided to go to Mexico, I told Rebecca and Vanessa to bring plenty of dirty clothes along because I am going to have a wash board stomach. Well I didn’t exactly get there. But as you can see from the picture I came pretty close. Here it is ladies. I thought you might like to see what a real skaters body looks like. Drink it in. I have a new addiction, and Saturday afternoon I fulfilled it. It is getting professional massages. They are just the greatest thing. I got one last year down in Mexico and it felt great. When we got back, I told myself I was going to start getting them on a regular basis, but never did, until two weeks ago, when I went. In fact yesterday after my session was over, I bought a 10 pack of ½ hour massages. $270, I don’t think that is bad at all. My session started yesterday, and as I was lying on the table face down, I could hear the masseuse squirting the oil on to her hands and rubbing them together over the top of me. I got so excited. If you have never had one I highly recommend it. At only $30 a session, I can rationalize it by not going out for drinks on Friday night, where I would spend well over $30. By my line of thinking, if I stay in Friday night and get a massage Saturday, I am way ahead. Sunday was a bit of recovery from Saturday night and I managed to work out a little, do laundry and lay on the couch.

But Saturday night is where I did my damage. I was out with my college roommates, Mark and Kevin. We went to dinner first, and Mark’s wife, Suzanne, daughter and niece were also along for dinner. Afterwards the 3 bulls went out to a couple bars for drinks. Allow me to sidetrack for a moment. I love my blog readers. I know that I have quite a few religious readers who tune in nearly everyday. I feel very lucky to know that there are people out there who are actually interested in my life. Personally I find myself rather boring. I really do appreciate all of my readers and I do try to make things entertaining for them. Unfortunately, in trying to get a good story or picture for my blog and my readers I end up getting in a bit of trouble. There is a little voice that goes off in my head at times, often when I have a couple of drinks, and this voice says, “You know you probably shouldn’t do this, but it would make a great story.” At which point I usually do whatever it is I am contemplating not doing. It is exactly 12:39 a.m. Sunday morning and Mark, Kevin and I are at this Appleton bar on College Avenue called the Durty Leprechaun. We are sitting at the bar just talking and minding our own business when 5 or 6 stools down two girls jump up on the bar and start dancing. Up until this point it had been a rather uneventful evening out with just drinks and retelling old stories. I see these two girls on the bar and I think to myself, well I have to get a picture of this because up until this point I had nothing to post on my blog. There was nothing special about these girls dancing up on the bar. They didn’t take any clothes off or anything like that, they were just up there dancing, and maybe they were a bit touchy feely with each other, but it was far from anything shocking. This is something I have seen hundreds of times in the bars before. In fact I have even been up on a bar dancing before. It was really no big deal. So I got four or five pictures of these girls and went back to talking to Mark and Kevin. A couple of seconds later, the one girl who was up on the bar comes over to me and said that she wanted me to let her see my camera I asked her why. And she said that she wanted me to delete those pictures. I told her not a chance. We got into a fairly lengthy discussion about me deleting those pictures, which in fact there was no way that I was going to do any such thing. She told me, “I don’t want people taking pictures of me dancing up on a bar with other girls!!!” To which I replied to her, “Well here is a little bit of advice. If you don’t want people taking pictures of you dancing up on bars with other girls, I suggest you don’t get up on bars and dance with other girls.” Seeing that this discussion was going absolutely no where and that there wasn’t any chance of me deleting the pictures, the girl appeared a bit miffed. I should have seen this coming but I didn’t, and to be honest I think this is only the second time this has happened to me, and the other time was actually by a friend of mine. But this girl took a full beer and threw it at me. I was soaked. And she actually clocked me pretty good in the side of the face with the glass. I had a bit of a bump the next day. It took me less than half a second to compute what just transpired and to plot my own course of action. I took my drink and dumped it right over the top of her head. At which point her boy friend and his meathead friends, who were only a couple of feet away, charged at me. It all happened pretty quick, but Mark and Kevin were already standing between me and this boyfriend and then the bouncers came rushing in and usher this clown and his buddies all outside. A couple of minutes later, one of these meatheads came back into the bar and wanted to know why I hit the girl and why she was bleeding. I tried to tell him what happened but he was interested in waiting to listen to what I had to say. He kept inviting me outside to talk where he told me all of his buddies were waiting to beat me up. Figuring that I had already caused enough trouble, we called it a night, slipped out the back door and walked back to my place. 34 years old and I am starting bar fights. Real mature.

Here are the pictures that got me in trouble.
This is right after I dumped the drink on her head. I think the guy in the white shirt was the bouncer and the guy behind him is the one who wanted to take a shot at me.