Thursday, July 30, 2015

A conversation with Kurt

I don’t know what it is, perhaps there’s a sense of rebellion among the three sisters towards their no nonsense, straight talking father but of the three sisters, two have married, well, to put it blunt – weenies (Jules has yet to become engaged but I think it’s more of the fear she instills in men – she has this thing about bleaching everything before and after use. Which, if I were thinking of becoming a potential beau, would make me think hard about getting hard and becoming frisky too). Both Maggie’s and Sly’s hubbies are from out of province, trying desperately to hold onto their metrosexualistic attitudes and mannerism within the confines of the heart of Alberta Redneck Country - they’re both really annoying. Want an example? Here’s what happened last night:
I walk into the bar and sitting at a table by himself is Kurt. I try my hardest to pretend that I don’t notice him and make my way to my usual stool – but he spots me and waves me over to sit at the table with him.
Me: What are you doing here; shouldn’t you be at the Fox and the Hound? That’s your type of place…
Kurt: There’s an office party, so I thought I’d try this place out. Why type of place is my kind of place?
Me: You know, has the all the tvs on sports with the volume turned up, it’s well lit, people sit around and are all a bunch of…what’s the word? Starts with an ‘s’…
Kurt: sports fans?
Me: No that’s not it…
Kurt: (sighs) It wouldn’t happen to be sissies, would it?
Me: No, but damn close….S- O-…..
Kurt: S.O.B.’s?
Me: Nope…..
Kurt: (looks around the bar at the regulars) It wouldn’t have anything to do with most of the crowd over there is sober, is it?
Me: That’s it! You social drinkers…pansy assed whiners too afraid to commit themselves – it’s do or do not; not maybe, god damn it…
Kurt: Excuse me, if you want talk about commitment, I’m married and you’re not. (the waitress comes over, putting a nix on that silly point)
Waitress: Ok, give it to me big guy
Me: (think for a second) Here goes:
You’ve got great tits and a nice round tush
Why don’t you drop your pants and show me your bush
And just tell the old man later that it’s dried banana mush?
(Kurt looks aghast)
Waitress: (smiles) Passable – double or single?
Me: just a single (waitress walks away)
Kurt: What the hell was that about?
Me: It’s my scotch marker. (Kurt looks at me funny-like so I have to explain) If I can’t come up with a perverse stanza, Michelle will just bring me a draft – If I can, she brings me a scotch.
Kurt: What the hell are you talking about?
Me: If I’m not in dirty old man mode, it means I’m in political mood; it means as the night progresses I start going on about political matters, which really irritates folks. But if I’m just being a horn dog – that’s acceptable.
Kurt: That’s really messed up, you do realize that, don’t you?
Me: (shrugs) Not really – the last time I was political on scotch I had half the bar ready to follow me up to Edmonton to give Brian Mason a super wedgie and pummel him with cucumbers with condoms over them with the tips filled with hot sauce.
Kurt: I’m almost afraid to ask why….
Me: That’s because you can’t appreciate the Alberta male mind – you think too much about feelings and all that gushy sensitive shit. This is a bar; you talk about boobs, butts and booze…until last call where you crawl into a corner and start whining about how inane your life is.
Kurt: And Maggie wonders why we don’t hang out….

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