I've sat down to write tonight. Some nights the thoughts come quicker than other nights. Some nights I care not to sit down atall (Atall-only said with British accent). Some nights I'd rather stand and wonder why I even goto bars. Oh right, cause that's where you meet people. Meet people. And that's where you can be social. That's one of the places that allows you to be social and meet people. It's a Socializing Zone.
What if you're social in other places? That's fine, of course. But those places are not built for the sheer act of socializing like bars are, so what you're doing in those other places is calling an 'audible.' I don't call too many audibles, I've found.
I goto a restaurant. I eat.
I goto the gym. I flex and fight.
I goto the grocery (I do things alone now most-ly). I buy Chicken Tuscan Lean Cuisines.
I goto Chuckie Cheese's. I play in the balls.
I goto the park. I prey on minors.
Just making sure you're paying attention.
I find if you try and socialize at other places outside of the bar, people get the wrong impression. All the sudden you're the creep talking to the chick while she's shopping.
It's not a bar, moron. You shop at the grocery, not talk to people. Grab your Gushers and move it along, and stop calling audibles.
But I LOVE hearing guys audible in non-socializing venues. They say the best shit. Literally. Just poop flows out of their mouths and into the ears of helpless female (and male) shoppers the world over.
'Oh, cool. You like butter, too. That's crazy, I've got some here, too. My cart won't turn. Happens every time. Yea, see ya in the next aisle.'
And that's always awkward, isn't it? Cause then both of them are very conscious that they just exchanged a brief exchange in the previous aisle, so the pressure mounts to say something in the next aisle.
'Double ply. Yea, I need the extra ply.'
How embarrassing. Why do people have to SEE what you buy? I want a cart that's metal all around. Forget this metal cage shit. I want an iron-clad-stroller-cart that I can just stuff odd shit into through tiny covered armholes that protrude from the two holes where the kid's feet are supposed to go. Nobody would ever know what the hell I had in there. I could buy fifteen gallons of milk. Ya know how weird it would be if ya saw a guy pushing a cart with fifteen milks?
What's that guy's deal? Whatta douchebag. Guy's taking all the milks. Must be some milk freak. Milk freak, aisle JACKASS 7!
Well, what if the guy just really likes milk, dammit? And now he can't buy fifteen milks because we'll judge him through his cage-cart.
Not anymore, we won't! Once he starts pushing the iron-clad-stroller-cart around, he can have a dead guy in there and the only way you'd ever know would be from the stench. And if ya shop at Wal-Mart Grocery in Uptown Dallas then you'd never know. Get it.
Where the hell was I? Oh right! Socializing in non-socializing restricted environments.
Ya know one place completely off limits for socializing, though? While ya stand next to another man in the office john and pee standing up. That's always really uncomfortable for the other guy. And I love doing it. Ya look up, breathe out real deep. Let out a 'oh yea...yea, yea, yea. There we go. It's just crazy how quick that shit went away. Doc don't know shit.' Never stop staring straight up.
It's good for an inside laugh. A laugh inside your brain. Don't let it out. Don't let them know for a second that you're laughing internally. But keep it. Bottle it up and tell your buddies later. Hopefully they'll laugh externally at it.
So, in summary, what have I covered today.
Just call 'em. Talk to everyone all the time. Don't wait for the bars. Don't wait for the clubs. Don't wait for the bathrooms. Don't wait for the restaurants.
Call audibles all the time.
Cause I need more material.