I golfed today, was in a good mood and a friend called me up for Happy Hour. I am "moderating" right now and tonight was not the night I was drinking. Don't be some faggot and ask details on my sobriety. Most of you faggots pinch your dick off every night to seedy porn so don't pass judgement on me.
So my buddy calls and wants to do drinks at neighborhood sports bar and I show up. I am bored but, WTF, why not? So I pull up in the Nav and park next to some dented up 1997 BMW tin can. LOL, this POS has dents all over like it met a hail storm. Normally I do not park the Nav next to such a piece of shit as the owner of such a can would have no issue denting a primo vehicle such as mine but I take a chance. This is a risk and when I leave I write down his license plate in case this douche doors me and rolls.
So I walk in and spot my friend, and another guy he is with whom I know and is a decent guy. We bullshit and they inform me, Craig, is taking a piss and will be right out and we have a table that just came available. So I go and take a piss too, and come back to the table and Craig is there already with my friends. I already hate this guy. He is somewhat short but looks like he works out all the time like some quazi-moto faggot. He has faded jeans and some skin tight black shirt like some steroid muscle geek looking to overcome for his shortness.
I grab his hand to shake and he makes sure to over-squeeze it to identify his game. LOL. There is a firm handshake and a "I lift weights and a short geek oversquueze handshake". Whatever, so moto starts talking shit, this and that, dominating the convo annoying everyone at the table even the waitress. Its all about the money he makes, ass he gets and new house he bought.
I am tuning out, sipping an ice water and looking around analyzing the scene in the bar. My buddy gets my attention and asks if an appetizer platter is cool and I am like "fucking fine". I really just want to get out of there because Mr. Moto is rambling on over all the fantasy ass and money he gets. So anyway the food gets here and the platter of wings/tenders/sticks/skins gets there and then, the other dish gets there. This fat ass moto orders some green cheese concoction disguised as spinach. As a bonus this fat ass has a basket of corn chips slurping up this elephant shit in a bowl like a fucking pig. All the while Mr Moto is eating this healthy 2,000 calorie dish while washing it down with five lo-cal 22 ounce Sam Adams.
This is the most annoying time of my life. This guy won't shut up and finally the check gets there and its $99. There were a lot of beers and shots, not of which I did, I was on water. So I look at the check and I take the high road and throw down $15. The platter was $13.49 and I had 1/3 of it so basically I pay for the whole thing.
So Moto says "$30 for everyone?" No asshole, I will not pay for anyone else's booze especially your fucking beers and cheese dip fat ass. I am not loud at this point and tell him my actual bill is really $7 with tip but I am a classy guy and here is $15, which he informs me I need a calculator with the tab.
So then I lose my temper and let him know what a fucking demented dimwitted quazi moto muther fucking fat ass he is and always will be. This fucking guy stands up and acts like he would come after me, LOL. I am not some MMA wannne bee but I can handle myself and Mr Moto would have been decimated with my reach alone. But he wanted no such thing. He acted like a bad ass and gave the impression that the staff was holding him back.
I walked out and my buddy texted me as I left claiming he had never met this cheese stick before, that he was the other guy's friend. That's ok, I roll on.
So my buddy calls and wants to do drinks at neighborhood sports bar and I show up. I am bored but, WTF, why not? So I pull up in the Nav and park next to some dented up 1997 BMW tin can. LOL, this POS has dents all over like it met a hail storm. Normally I do not park the Nav next to such a piece of shit as the owner of such a can would have no issue denting a primo vehicle such as mine but I take a chance. This is a risk and when I leave I write down his license plate in case this douche doors me and rolls.
So I walk in and spot my friend, and another guy he is with whom I know and is a decent guy. We bullshit and they inform me, Craig, is taking a piss and will be right out and we have a table that just came available. So I go and take a piss too, and come back to the table and Craig is there already with my friends. I already hate this guy. He is somewhat short but looks like he works out all the time like some quazi-moto faggot. He has faded jeans and some skin tight black shirt like some steroid muscle geek looking to overcome for his shortness.
I grab his hand to shake and he makes sure to over-squeeze it to identify his game. LOL. There is a firm handshake and a "I lift weights and a short geek oversquueze handshake". Whatever, so moto starts talking shit, this and that, dominating the convo annoying everyone at the table even the waitress. Its all about the money he makes, ass he gets and new house he bought.
I am tuning out, sipping an ice water and looking around analyzing the scene in the bar. My buddy gets my attention and asks if an appetizer platter is cool and I am like "fucking fine". I really just want to get out of there because Mr. Moto is rambling on over all the fantasy ass and money he gets. So anyway the food gets here and the platter of wings/tenders/sticks/skins gets there and then, the other dish gets there. This fat ass moto orders some green cheese concoction disguised as spinach. As a bonus this fat ass has a basket of corn chips slurping up this elephant shit in a bowl like a fucking pig. All the while Mr Moto is eating this healthy 2,000 calorie dish while washing it down with five lo-cal 22 ounce Sam Adams.
This is the most annoying time of my life. This guy won't shut up and finally the check gets there and its $99. There were a lot of beers and shots, not of which I did, I was on water. So I look at the check and I take the high road and throw down $15. The platter was $13.49 and I had 1/3 of it so basically I pay for the whole thing.
So Moto says "$30 for everyone?" No asshole, I will not pay for anyone else's booze especially your fucking beers and cheese dip fat ass. I am not loud at this point and tell him my actual bill is really $7 with tip but I am a classy guy and here is $15, which he informs me I need a calculator with the tab.
So then I lose my temper and let him know what a fucking demented dimwitted quazi moto muther fucking fat ass he is and always will be. This fucking guy stands up and acts like he would come after me, LOL. I am not some MMA wannne bee but I can handle myself and Mr Moto would have been decimated with my reach alone. But he wanted no such thing. He acted like a bad ass and gave the impression that the staff was holding him back.
I walked out and my buddy texted me as I left claiming he had never met this cheese stick before, that he was the other guy's friend. That's ok, I roll on.
Always turn the other cheek.
Should of bailed right away, saved an hour for anything else.
