so i get to come in last monday and listen to someone talk about how they hung out with a friend of mine who's been blowing me off for like..um..two months or some crap. the bastard is good with it, people can choose whoever the hell they want to hang out and i ain't always pleasant. ask the nice lady. i wasn't pleasant for damn near 10 years. oh well. anyway, the bastard deems monday a total wash when i gets the call."hey bastard, how's it going it's the accountant. i'm in town on business. didn't your mom tell you"
"oh accountant, i was gonna call you last week but i.."
"didn't?"
"right. but, i was gonna." you see the accountant is one of the three from california. my youngest cousin out there and the only one who comes to new york on business. we don't mince words when we have the goods on one another, so we start working on some...
"dinner plans?"
"dinner plans indeed. i know a good spot. meet me at the office when your done with whatever it is you accountants do when you come here on business"
we meet up at a joint that chicago jerkface introduced me to called the chat 'n' chew. if you're ever in town, they make kick ass fried chicken. anyway, the accountant and i go over the events of the past month as well as the three year backlog of talk that we haven't had since she was last here. the waitress felt bad interrupting us with the silly things like, "would you like something to drink?", or "have you decided what you'd like to eat?", or any other thing that wait staff does. don't take it personal lady, we only haven't spoken in three years. after this we hit the old town bar. second oldest bar in nyc after mcsorleys. they have urinals the size of fucking cadillacs in the place. plenty of room to...well you get the idea. it was during this time in which the accountant and i were drinking like our family does that i realized that maybe her sister, who we could call palo alto might not be right about how the family will go it's separate ways when the house of usher comes down. we'll still talk, and we'll still drink, and we'll still have old times. just not with big ass urinals all the time because i can only go to that place so many times before i look like i don't know other bars on this rock.—the bastard
2 comments:
What Palo Alto doesn't understand is that it is a matter of economics. If I had the means I'd be out there every three months learning how too surf. And that's the truth, but those urinals are indeed gargantuan, I think they maytbe TARDIS', now that's the double truth.
actually, palo alto was talking of a specific incident in which the artist's dad made her upset but it hightlighted a condition that has a great deal of growth potential in our family
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