Archive March 2006
March 14, 2006


When I am drunk I enjoy peeing in pools, puking, and shouting at strangers. Saturday night was definitely a night for shouting. Apart from my standard "Whoop! Whoop!" I was also working "Spring Break 2006!" (followed by high fives) and "Jersey!" for people I thought looked like they were from, well, Jersey!

While walking from bar too bar I hear someone shout a magical phrase "Show your tits!" I immediately echo this sentiment only to be disappointed to the see object of our persuasion being rushed out of the area by her boyfriend. The guy who shouted is in his mid thirties and shit-faced drunk. He stumbles up to me, and since real recognizes real gives me props. I am impressed by his state of inebriation and even more impressed by his sense of style because he had with him a bunch of beads.

Why all guys do not walk around with beads I'll never know. They cost next to nothing and whether they expose titties or end up in an asshole they pretty much guarantee a good time for those brave enough to wield their awesome power.

Anyway on with the story. There is a real cute girl with the guy.

Me: "Why haven't you earned any beads yet?"
Cute Girl: "Because that is my uncle."
Drunk Uncle: "Yeah that is my niece man."
Me: "So? Show us your tits!"

I think my "so" got to the uncle because next thing I know.

Drunk Uncle: "Yeah show us your tits!"
Cute Girl: (laughs)
Drunk Uncle: "I'll give you two dollars! Wait let me get your mother over here she'll do it." (calls over his sister)
Drunk Uncle: "We want to see your tits. How bout beads and 5 dollars for both. You down for 5?"
Me: "Sure."
Mom: "I dunno I think they are worth more than 5."
Me: "Listen. If there is one thing I know it is that money comes and money goes, but the chance to create a memory with your daughter doesn't come along often and is something that both of you will cherish for the rest of your lives."

They laugh and agree. Sadly this story does not have a happy ending because just then the mom's big black boyfriend walks up, and puts a stop to it. Even sadder still I later find out that "cute girl" is 17, and since I am disinclined too anal rapeage I have to decline a private showing.

However, the moral of this story still rings true. You should think of beads not as cheap plastic party accessories but as "story makers" whose value is determined not in any monetary sense but by the stories they invoke. When looked at from this perspective how many beads out there are priceless?

posted by John 5:08PM