'Don't Judge Me...'
more to come on that later.
i had to wait forrrrrrrrrrrrrEVER for the metro at vienna. got on train. sit on train for about 10 minutes. train has not left station. still sittin there. trains comin in, but none leaving. m’kay. notice people exeunting das train, so i take off the headphones, hear announcement “please exit the train immediately”, so i follow suit (and we all know how much i HATE doing that) and get off the train. broken train pulls up the tracks, another train finally comes in. board the train. head on out to metro center to make el changeroo.
Now, .sara has bequeathed to me that she has never seen people wear a hat and headphones. meaning, the headphones over the hat. i do this ALL the time, because usually i have my cover with me, and my headphones, and i can’t really fit my headphones underneath my hat, but believe me i have tried. ANYway, when i was in the metro center, i saw atLEAST 6-7 people with hats/headphones on. i don’t get it, how could you have never seen that before?
get on the red line (not the blueline) and head on up to CUA. get off train there. the escalator going down is about 10 feet from the train i just got off of.
i walk fast, i just do.
in my peripheral i see this yuppie trash lookin mother fucker SCAMPERING towards the escalator. i thought he was tryin to beat me to the escalator, and we can’t have that. i pick up my step and as we both reach the escalator (unfortunately at the same time, so now i had to make a point) i scuff this yuppie’s polished shoe (the right one, if you were interested) with my nike’s, just to make a point :) i think he then tapped me on the shoulder, or i looked up or something.
and it was bobo, but don’t judge him.
HI BOBO! sorry about that :) he said he was tryin to get my attention, but since i had the headphones on, i … obviously didn’t hear him.
he informs me that he usually doesn’t dress like that for work (sure, sure) but that day he had a presentation that ended up gettin cancelled, and not to judge him.
hop in “JAM KIDS” and head on back to la casa del bobo.
well hebelobo .sara, she’s busy reading, too busy in fact to stand up and say hi to a brotha. say hello to hal too.
NICE pad, nice furniture, then there’s the mac (that my cam crashed, whoops. yup, just the cam page), and the drafting table that gets MAD play. roight roight. kid’s got an EXTENsive library. (kid). but don’t judge him.
the kid dicks around the apartment for a while, says he’s gonna change ‘cause we’re all STARVING and want to go eat. goes in his room, takes off shoes, comes back out, talks for a second, goes back in room, changes shirts, comes back out, goes back in room, changes pants, comes back out, you get the jist. JESUS, kid, just go change and come back out when you’re finished.
we decide to go to the Dubliner, because, well, some of us are irish :)
the entourage (minus a few) jumps in JAM KIDS and are on our way.
see the Dubliner from afar and it looks straight PACKED. “top of the mornin to ya” buncha drunk irishmen gettin loud outside. but, we found out later that they were all volunteer firemen gettin together there. so we head on inside. see the signs everywhere. “proper attire is necessary” or SOMETHING like that. bobo and sara were wearin shorts and shirts, i was wearin pants and a shirt, shouldn’t have a problem. we ask for a table, and they (as sara said) “hid us” in the back. we got the last fuckin table in the smokin section and it was RIGHT next to a wait station. woo fun, thanks ya bastard.
bobo knows the dude waiting on us.
bobo also knows this other girl workin there.
bobo knows everybody.
bobo planned this wethinks.
we ordered some drinks, bobo and i with the guinness, .sara with the sierra
drinks come, bobo’s still talkin. sara goes to take a sip from her beer. i
tell her to be patient. she says she’s thirsty, i ask her to be patient.
bobo finishes up his conversation, and we toast. “cheers for beers”
see sara? you knew there was a reason.
we all shot the shit for a while, in many different accents. bobo and i were
talkin back and forth as irishmen, arabic, indian, (he could do scottish, i
still don’t have that one down and i don’t wanna offend anybody) jamaican,
you name it. .sara was too busy balled up laughing.
i think i’m one of the few that can shut bobo up, if needed.
almost had to write bobo a list of maysism’s. he didn’t know what "weak
sauce" meant. him not knowing, is weak sauce.
ordered dinner and another beer for sara and I (always lookin out for people
i am i am (:). sara almost did a bad thing.
she WANTED to order fish & chips. in an irish pub.
fish & chips.
in an irish pub?
why do they even have that on the menu?
(fish & chips is an english dish, and well if you don’t know about the animosity between brits and irishfolk, then i can’t help you)
we concluded that it was a test. whoever ordered the fish & chips did not belong in the pub and that’s how the waitstaff weeded out the unwanted. whoever orders the fish and chips gets taken out back, hung and quartered or
but she got a club sandwich (yeah, how many times did i misspell THAT a little while ago. sandwhich sandwhich sandwhich) and bobo got the london broil. (are you vegetarian?)
the food was ALL good, friggin delicioso. our waiter also bought us the first round of drinks, KICK ASS.
finish on up with dinner and now i gots to head on out ‘cause i didn’t know when the last train left the station. head on over to union station, hop on metro, head on back to stoner.
could NOT have had a better time methinks. was just like i said “like old friends gettin together and talkin about the shit that was goin on”. was a nice relief.