Friday, September 6, 2013

Get Back In The Bar Now!!!!

GET BACK IN THE BAR NOWWWWW!!!!!

I looked up and saw that it was the bartender screaming at me.  A few questions came to mind.  First, why was I outside.  Second, why was the bartender outside. Third, what the hell was happening!

Earlier that night our kickball team dominated.  At the bar, not at the field.  Let's not talk about the field.

There was a limbo contest that night at the bar and I decided to ask the ladies on our team if they wanted to join.

"Hey Lynsee...want..."

I was interrupted.

"YES! I'LL DO IT!"

Hmmm. That was a quick and unexpected response.

"I mean, I guess I'll give it a try"

Awww shucks, you guess you'll give it a try... Ok...fast forward 10 minutes later and the girl is holding a gift certificate to the bar after taking home the limbo championship.

While lady was dominating at limbo, the rest of the team was dominating their credit card charges.  Shots were flowing like...shots...and I can't even remember how many drinks I purchased.  APR 1, Me 0.

Before you know it I found myself standing outside of the bar being dragged back inside by my ear.

So what happened?

Earlier, someone asked how I was getting home and if I was taking a cab.  This led me into a tirade about the cab company and how much I hate them.

 "IM NEVER CABBING HOME!" I screamed, and I headed out the door.

At this point, as a normal human would assume, it appeared that I was going to drive home intoxicated.  This was not the case.  Yes I was about to do something extremely stupid, but not that.  Never that. (just look at the parking lot EVERY Friday morning)

What I was going to do was something I had actually accomplished before.  I was going to attempt the 13 mile walk back to my home.

Lucky for me, and my legs, the bartender stopped me outside and told me to come back inside.  I was trying to explain my plans to walk home, but she didn't care.  She wanted me back inside.

A few minutes later my cab arrived.  Wait...what?  My cab?  I didn't call a cab.

I'm gonna take an educated guess and assume the bartender had called me a cab.  Whatever the case was I would not be sleeping in the bushes.

Within seconds of entering the car, as predicted, the cab the driver was telling me that I had to prepay him (illegal).  I asked if he was kidding and he said he wasn't and that if I wanted to go to Chantilly where he "don't drive there" (so far away...10 minutes) that he needed the money first.

I wasn't in any state to logically complain so I did something I have done in the past when stuff like that happened.  I put my (dead) phone up to my ear, and said the following:

"Hey dad. The cab driver made me prepay him $40. When I get home in 10 minutes can you come outside and look at the meter and get the correct change back from him"

It doesn't matter how old you are, if you have a dad, or if nobody is waiting outside when you get home.  It works.

The driver handed me back $20 and I gave him a $2 tip and went inside and collapsed on my bed.  Another successful kickball night.

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