2004-10-26 - 1:22 p.m.
Today’s random brain synapses:
When I was in Junior High, my friend Eggbert and I stole the handles off every pencil sharpener in the school. It resulted in a small crises for the entire school. School officials threatend to bring in the "Authorities".
Obnoxious? Yup.
Funny? We certainly thought so.
A nagging re-occurring dream:
Lately, I’ve been having dreams about an old girlfriend; Toni. The dreams are not sexual in nature (Sorry). I just wake up in the middle of the night with the distinct feeling that she is trying to find me. I do not believe in para-normal things like this, but this has been happening for the past few days and just leaves me with a “spooky and creeped out” feeling. Go figure.
Slice of Andy’s daily life:
Before going home last night, I stopped off at a Chinese restaurant nearby my house. The place is great. It’s tacky as they come and the owner makes the world’s best mai-tai. I will put his mai-tai up against anyone’s. If you are from Central MA, you probably know the place I am talking about.
The funny thing is, I hate Mai-Tais. And according to Spell Check, I don't even know how to spell it.
And I’m not sure if this is something to brag about, but I can pound down the liquor with the very best of them. As Richard Blain once said in Casablanca: “Nationality? I’m a drunkard." Given that, I can typically have 5-7 large, strong drinks and still function as a human being. A drunk human being, but never the less, I can function. Not So with these velvet hammers.”
The first time I had one these infamous Mai-tais was 5 years ago when I first moved into the neighborhood. I actually wanted a Jack Daniels and Coke, but the little yellow man behind the bar told me “No!!!!You have mai-tai! Everyone here have Mai-tai.”
And as if the scene was directly stolen from the old Saturday Night Live “Cheeseburger” skit, the little yellow man pointed to everyone in the bar
“Look! Mai-tai over there! Mai-tai over here! He drink Mai tai! They drink
Mai-Tai! Everyone drink Mai-Tae! What are you, chicken shit?!You have mai-tai! Everyone love mai-tai!”
So, I ordered a Mai-tai. It was the best fuckingest drink I ever fucking had. It wasn’t your run of the mill mai-tai. Oh no sir. This was a delicate blend of secret bottles the bar tender closely guarded and mixed with such speed and skill it left me in awe. This was a smooth concoction of pure elixir. A little slice of Trader Vic heaven.
I only had 2 and half drinks that night, but I am told that I came home and almost lit the house on fire trying to get the wood stove going.
I was also informed by my lovely wife that I had, after knocking all the *burning” wood out of the stove, I threw my arms up in the air and called my wife that “C” word that you are never, never, ever supposed to say and then promptly went to bed.
Huh.
Mai-tais are funny things.
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