High on my list of New Year’s resolutions is my intention to be more tolerant. Like, regarding that old guy, Tom, who came into DJ’s and dumped a tray of balls out onto table number 4 a few Thursdays ago, I will try not to utter the word “asshole” under my breath every time I see him. Hm… good luck with that. I mean, as far as I’m concerned, people who do that are assholes. I was in DJ’s another time when this other idiot did the same thing and thereby also offended my delicate sensibilities. I couldn’t keep myself quiet. “Where’d you learn that move?” I asked. “At the friggin’ Moose Club?” (No offense to the Moose out there, it was all I could come up with on the spur of the moment.) I can only imagine how Moulton Teasdale, the guy who owned the pool room where I grew up, would have reacted to someone doing that to one of his tables. Most likely, he would’ve made a few choice comments regarding the man’s intelligence and lineage, and then thrown the stupid mother ef’er out, suggesting strongly that he never come back. But that was yesterday…Here, I had intended to move on to my second resolution, but writing about the first one has me so ticked off that I can’t think straight. How’s this? I resolve to be the same mean old son-of-a-bitch in 2009 that I was in 2008. If you don’t like it, shove it!
No comments:
Post a Comment