my shoes as i saw them today.
tonight i've been smoking the world's most necessary weed and drinking a few of the world's most necessary beers. pounding hangover still happening, and totally worth it. i'm going to talk about it and i'm curious to see what's here when i'm done.
last night i went from work to a fancy place around the corner for dinner. my boss is in some kind of training this week and took us out with 2 out of towners from the main office to meet eat and drink. it was ok. i could tell one of the out of towners was an ex weed smoker, and i had a really kick ass salad plus some even more kick ass venison free of charge. we went across the street to a bar i don't like and ended up playing pool all night. an old guy with a polaroid made 5 bucks taking a group shot, then another 5 bucks beating me at pool. then he did it a few more times. the sarge. the drunken rhymin ex marine vietnam vet motherfucking sarge. all he does is crack jokes.
everyone's bailed, and the bar decides they are closing early. too bad, the sarge and i are ready. we walk down the street to another spot where the sarge is a big hit (no surprise) shoot more pool "make it look good", and talk all kinds of shit about pairing up for a good, but totally honest pool hustling operation through all the bars in each our neighborhoods. there were people that would talk to him, but fuck with me, as well as people that wouldn't talk to him, but would me. brilliant. we stayed until closing time drinking and cracking each other up.
to the sarge's pad. he'd asked me at one point what i was all about and i told him i was just here to hang out. the sarge pays a cool $125 rent for half a duplex in a rough fucking neighborhood. the sarge is 61. he had a small bottle of crown for us to finish off, and he told me about hustling pool, other interesting shit, and we talked life for a few hours. at 5 he decides it's time he bought me a beer. the sarge has after hours beer knowledge.
we drove "slow down evil knevil, you gotta cruise when you're over here. keep it at 20." to a tiny 4 unit apartment building and the sarge goes in. while i'm sitting parked, an old caddy creeps up, kills the lights and just sits there on street. when the sarge emerged with 2 quarts (brown bagged even) the caddy fires up the lights and takes off. fuckin A. we rolled to where the street T'd with another street and parked in the lot of something that was closed. drinking our millers, high life indeed, and watching 2 guys scream at each other in the middle of the road about paying up. one of the dude's car is parked right in the middle of the street, running, with the lights on, and they're going at it right there. a cop rolls by, slows down just barely, and keeps on movin. "police don't stop down here. don't you worry bout nothin, you can go to any neighborhood in town with the sarge. nobody fucks with the old school." unbelievable.
i'm fascinated with grimy street life, and i got to see some. we're just sitting there parked and hanging out, and by this time in the night everything is just surreal and weird and funny and completely fucked up. i'm completely fucked up. at one point, sarge calls over this street walking dealer and basically tells him he's full of shit, and to quit messing up, and to get it right. and the dude took it. he left the immediate vicinity and didn't fuck with the old school. "that black enough for ya jab? aaahahahaha." a commmon statement from the sarge.
absolute most fucked up moment - the sarge gets a blowjob in the backseat of my truck for 8 bucks. he took more of my money playing pool than i took of his, so for accounting purposes, it was on me. i don't know if i've ever stared more straight ahead. wasn't quite ready for that one.
i got home about 30 minutes before work this morning and contemplated going in as is, completely out of my mind. called instead and left a message saying i was going to be late and very late. slept 5 hours, worked for 5 hours and spent the whole time thinking about all of this. insanity.
the sarge!
tonight i've been smoking the world's most necessary weed and drinking a few of the world's most necessary beers. pounding hangover still happening, and totally worth it. i'm going to talk about it and i'm curious to see what's here when i'm done.
last night i went from work to a fancy place around the corner for dinner. my boss is in some kind of training this week and took us out with 2 out of towners from the main office to meet eat and drink. it was ok. i could tell one of the out of towners was an ex weed smoker, and i had a really kick ass salad plus some even more kick ass venison free of charge. we went across the street to a bar i don't like and ended up playing pool all night. an old guy with a polaroid made 5 bucks taking a group shot, then another 5 bucks beating me at pool. then he did it a few more times. the sarge. the drunken rhymin ex marine vietnam vet motherfucking sarge. all he does is crack jokes.
everyone's bailed, and the bar decides they are closing early. too bad, the sarge and i are ready. we walk down the street to another spot where the sarge is a big hit (no surprise) shoot more pool "make it look good", and talk all kinds of shit about pairing up for a good, but totally honest pool hustling operation through all the bars in each our neighborhoods. there were people that would talk to him, but fuck with me, as well as people that wouldn't talk to him, but would me. brilliant. we stayed until closing time drinking and cracking each other up.
to the sarge's pad. he'd asked me at one point what i was all about and i told him i was just here to hang out. the sarge pays a cool $125 rent for half a duplex in a rough fucking neighborhood. the sarge is 61. he had a small bottle of crown for us to finish off, and he told me about hustling pool, other interesting shit, and we talked life for a few hours. at 5 he decides it's time he bought me a beer. the sarge has after hours beer knowledge.
we drove "slow down evil knevil, you gotta cruise when you're over here. keep it at 20." to a tiny 4 unit apartment building and the sarge goes in. while i'm sitting parked, an old caddy creeps up, kills the lights and just sits there on street. when the sarge emerged with 2 quarts (brown bagged even) the caddy fires up the lights and takes off. fuckin A. we rolled to where the street T'd with another street and parked in the lot of something that was closed. drinking our millers, high life indeed, and watching 2 guys scream at each other in the middle of the road about paying up. one of the dude's car is parked right in the middle of the street, running, with the lights on, and they're going at it right there. a cop rolls by, slows down just barely, and keeps on movin. "police don't stop down here. don't you worry bout nothin, you can go to any neighborhood in town with the sarge. nobody fucks with the old school." unbelievable.
i'm fascinated with grimy street life, and i got to see some. we're just sitting there parked and hanging out, and by this time in the night everything is just surreal and weird and funny and completely fucked up. i'm completely fucked up. at one point, sarge calls over this street walking dealer and basically tells him he's full of shit, and to quit messing up, and to get it right. and the dude took it. he left the immediate vicinity and didn't fuck with the old school. "that black enough for ya jab? aaahahahaha." a commmon statement from the sarge.
absolute most fucked up moment - the sarge gets a blowjob in the backseat of my truck for 8 bucks. he took more of my money playing pool than i took of his, so for accounting purposes, it was on me. i don't know if i've ever stared more straight ahead. wasn't quite ready for that one.
i got home about 30 minutes before work this morning and contemplated going in as is, completely out of my mind. called instead and left a message saying i was going to be late and very late. slept 5 hours, worked for 5 hours and spent the whole time thinking about all of this. insanity.
the sarge!
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crazy story, man. i like it.
CRAZY!