The Thanksgiving Miracle We've All Been Waiting For
On the way to My Favorite Bar I caught a green light just before it turned yellow and commented to myself, "That was the Thanksgiving miracle we've all been waiting for." By the time I arrived at My Favorite Bar, I had just overcome my laughter at this comment, and as I made my way through the night, rather than tell everyone about the funny comment that I had made to myself on my way to the bar, I decided to reuse it in conversation with, well, everyone I spoke to. After all, none of these schmoes were with me in the car when I used it the first time, so it was a perfect steal (and, p.s., it wasn't even really stealing, as I was the one who came up with it in the first place).
And my "Thanksgiving miracle" line got some laughs early on. When I ordered a Guiness and Bill brought it to me, I proclaimed, "Thanks, Bill -- this is the Thanksgiving miracle we've all been waiting for!" Laughs from Bill -- check; laughs from the couple sitting within ear distance -- check; laughs from me -- check. Later, in line for the men's room, I didn't think I'd be able to hold my bladder much longer. "I might piss my pants right here," I remarked to the fellows in line with me. But just then, the men's room door opened, and it was my turn. I wasn't going in there yet, though -- not before I said, "This is the Thanksgiving miracle we've all been waiting for!" and ran into the men's room to the cheers and laughs behind me.
But some people just don't understand irony, I guess. After enough bad songs hd been played on the juke box to warrant the complaints of the people seated around me at the bar, the song "Rico Suave" came on. Yes, "Rico Sauve"--by Gerardo--huge hit in 1991--parodied by Weird Al's "Taco Grande"--and, (not a big deal or anything, but) whose video, with its scantily clad Latino lay-deez, pretty much got me through Freshman year of high school. So when it came on after the string of musical slop that had preceded it, it seemed somewhat appropriate to say, you guessed it, "This is the Thanksgiving miracle we've all been waiting for." Only, the boyfriend of the girl who played that song on the jukebox didn't think that was that funny. He spun to me--spun to me--and said, "What's your fuckin' problem with this song?" I explained to him that I had no problem with the song--that, in fact, the video had quenched my adolescent hormonal urges--that I loved the song and would never speak badly about it. He backed off, and as we shook hands, I proclaimed, "This is the Thanksgiving miracle we've all been waiting for!" I thought it was hysterical, but he apparently didn't, and he punched me in the face. Next thing I knew, I was on the floor begging this guy to stop hitting me. I'm not a fighter, I'm a talker. "You better take it back, you motherfucker!" the man demanded. "I take it back--Jesus Christ, I take it back! I'm sorry!" This seemed to convince him, as he turned away from me, which, in turn, convinced me that "This [was] the Thanksgiving miracle we'[d]all been waiting for!" Oh, Jesus, had I really just said that out loud? The man, grasping the front of my shirt with one hand and punching me once again in the face with the other convinced me that, yes, I had indeed said it out loud. When Bill the Bartender pulled the man off of me, my face hurt a little bit, but I was drunk, so I didn't care. "Bill, my friend," I said putting a hand on his shoulder, while avoiding the swings of the angry man, "thank you. This is the Thanksgiving miracle we've all been waiting for." Bill told me to (and I quote) "Shut the everlovin' fuck up," while a patron who I didn't know said to Ray the Landscaper, "Why does he keep saying that?" to which Ray responded, "I don't know--guess he just loves Thanksgiving miracles." Right you are, Ray. Right you are.
This entry was posted
on 11/24/06 at 2:52 PM.
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hahaha
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