Stray Thoughts: 4/29/2017

It’s funny, how a simple little mention of something can
take you back to a funny story. This goes back to the early 90’s and eating
lunch with a friend at this little hole in the wall cafe not too far from where
I grew up.

The place was only open for breakfast and lunch and both were normally good.
Now my prices might not be 100% accurate, but then again it has been
twenty-five years or so(I’m not even certain if it’s still open, it didn’t have a Yelp.com page). From what I can remember a hot dog was $1.00, a chili dog
was .85 and a cheeseburger was about $1.50. Like I said, I could be off, but the
price doesn’t necessarily matter.

I ordered a double cheeseburger, fries and a Pepsi-Cola. My
friend ordered 2 chili dogs, fries and likely a Pepsi-Cola as well.   We were just sitting there shooting the shit
and waiting on our food.

The waitress(mid-50’s), brings the food over to us and asks if she can
get us anything else; I asked for ketchup and pepper. Evidently we were
early for lunch and they hadn’t got everything back out on the tables yet. She
brought it and was turning to walk back to the counter/kitchen and my friend
took a bite out of his chili dog and loses it. “What the fuck is
this?” he says a bit louder than normal. The 4-5 guys at the counter all
turn and look, and the waitress comes bouncing back to the table asking what’s
wrong. “This hot dog ain’t got no God Damn wiener.” She looks at him
dumbfounded and perturbed likely  at his use of foul language. “B bu but sir, you
ordered chili dogs”, she told him and his confused look continued.
“Yeah because I wanted chili on my hot dog”, he explained, still being a
bit louder than normal. I’m laughing and trying to hold it together. She
explains to him. “Chili dogs are just chili in the bun, a hot dog has the wiener,
if you want chili you just have to ask for it.” This has stumped him and
he asked, “why call it a dog without the wiener?”  All she could say was “that is how it is.” At this point I’m
waiting for Mel to call her a “Dingy”, or for another waitress to
throw out a “kiss my grits”.

She took his plate back and added two wieners to the bun and
brought it back. He ate it.  We went up
to pay and they charged him for the two chili dogs for any confusion, and he
looked over at the guys sitting there and one of them said “Ain’t that
some shit, I’ve never ordered a chili dog here and now I know not to”. He looked at him and said “I won’t do it again.”, everyone laughed.

We each left and went our own way but it’s a pretty funny
story to recall.  The moral to the story is don’t order something without knowing 100% what it is. 

Stray thoughts
4/25/2017: 

My brain was
active last night. I can recall parts of three dreams. Maybe that’s why I feel
sluggish and am in need of more coffee.

Old Friends
and Good Times

This is the one that I
feel like I recall the least part of, which is unfortunate since it seemed like
the best of the triple feature. It seemed like modern day at an old watering
hole(that is no longer in doing business as the same place). I’m not even sure
what it’s like on the inside of the building at this point but it’s still
there.

We were just sitting
around watching a game, drinking some cold beer and I guess simply being around
each other. Nothing substantial came from it.

Mini-Nightmare

This is the odd one. It
was as if I was living in my parents old house and it was like I forgot that I had
two dogs(which would never happen), and I needed to feed them. I couldn’t place the dogs, but when I went
up to where they were, which was in the “sitting room”(I didn’t name
it), off of my parents bedroom which connected their bedroom to their master bath.

When I got up there it was the two dogs I previously had who unfortunately are
only in my memories. I asked them what they wanted to eat, and it’s not like
they responded, but they were happy it was dinner time. For whatever strange
reason I put a small pizza down for the smaller dog, a pug and then the bigger
one more of a mix(American Bulldog/Some form of Mastiff) came over and wanted
some and aggressively was taking it away from him and I woke up scared to
death. Just a fucked up dream. The two pups never knew each other, and the bigger
one was never around another animal, but I can’t imagine him acting that way.
Just a fucked up dream that I hate even typing it out. 

At that point I felt around for the remote and put it back on “Parks and Recreation”  and grabbed my tablet to read some more “Raylan”.  

Get Out Of My
GD Head

While dream
two goes down as the nightmare because it involved animals I loved, this one
goes down as more similar to  my repetitive Crash Davis dream starring someone else. Someone equally bad to dream about.  This one is the one that
pissed me off and I guess forced me to wake up on the wrong side of the bed. 

I won’t go
into details, but I really wish I would stop having them. Wish I could serve an
eviction notice to that part of my brain. Maybe all I need is some clippers, a mirror,
a scalpel, a drill and  wood burning kit.
I’m set right? That should do the trick. 

Stray thoughts: 4/22/2017

I remember a few years ago I was about 8 cars deep in a line to
exit a shopping center when I saw what I assumed to be a teenage girl(I guess she could have been in her 20′s but she looked young) driving a
mid 80’s Honda Prelude. It was summer, it was hot and she had her windows down
and you could see her white knuckles with her hands on the steering wheel and
that her cheeks were red. She was up in the seat  and very determined looking.  The only problem was her poor old car was
smoking like crazy, but that wasn’t going to stop her. I have no clue where she
was headed, I simply thought to myself I hope she gets there.

I turned right on my way home and was approaching my left
turn  about a mile and a half away from
the Target shopping center that I was coming from and I saw more smoke. The
poor girl’s car was off on the right hand side of the road with someone in
behind her and they were looking at it and the guy was on the phone either
calling 911 or a wrecker. I knew she wasn’t going to make it very far with the
way it was smoking. I guess the silver lining is that it broke down in an area
that was populated area so that someone could stop and give her assistance.  Part of me wishes I knew how far she was
expecting to go or how close she was to making it.

The moral of this story is that I feel like that ‘85 Prelude.  

Stray thoughts: 4/12/2017

I
had a dream last night and I wish it was a better one, since I have so much
recall to it. Frustrating to say the least.

I
was at a beach(assuming it was Myrtle), since that is about all I know, and I
was sitting at a table under an umbrella by a pool.

This
place had a tiny bar/grill being run out of shack that was built to resemble a
huge coconut. I was wearing some form of Hawaiian shirt and a pair of swimming
trunks and a pair of weathered Sanuks. Oh and I had my black fedora on as well.
Can’t forget the fedora. It was hot, but there was a misting fan not too far
away from the table that made it tolerable.
I was sitting there with a yellow legal pad and pen just writing down
bullet points. What I was writing, I have no clue, but someone would walk by
and I’d write something down.

A waitress walked up in a very skimpy bikini, she was wearing a pair of
sunglasses and there wasn’t a hint of a tan line.  I ordered their 15.00 Mushroom & Swiss,
and I was thinking to myself, ‘this better be some burger’, I added some fries
and a Jack & Coke.  I asked her,
“to put it in an adult sized glass if possible”, she smiled and
nodded and went and turned the order in.

I
flipped the page, wrote down  "Luciana,
late 20’s, waitress, friendly, tall, thin, toned". Out of everything I wrote
down during this dream that is the 95% of what I recall writing, and I wrote
“pages”.

A
teenage boy delivered the burger and fries; it was an impressive looking
burger. The boy lingered there without saying anything and I guess it was a
custom to tip him on the spot, so I handed him a couple of bills.  Luciana returned with the drink and it was in
a Styrofoam cup. She apologized “that it wasn’t as a glass” and I
said “no worries, I appreciate the attention to the size”, it was a
24 ounce cup, which is much better than the typical tumbler an adult beverage
is normally served in.

I
flipped back a few pages and wrote “smart/creative” with a couple of
underlines by Luciana’s name. The burger
had a healthy(well maybe not) amount of swiss cheese on it, mushrooms
lathered up in a thick gravy. It took both hands to eat it, so that was a plus.
Dammit(now i’m hungry).

Even
with the misting fan, it was getting hot. I put my papers/phone/keys in the
weathered old beat up messenger bag at my feet, put it on the table and kicked
off the shoes. I pulled off my shirt and took a dip in the pool, swimming down
and back before hopping out and sitting back down. I looked at my cup and
Luciana had filled up again.  I grabbed
the pad from the bag, went to the right page and wrote “very” beside
of the word smart.

I
started watching a couple that were fighting. I could hear about one out of every
three words. The guy had just finished rubbing sun tan oil on his wife’s back
and I guess when she shifted her head she caught him looking at another woman
that was laying out in the sun. She started to get up and he was trying to hold
her down but her slippery body wouldn’t allow his hands to contain her but it
did allow for her top to be disrupted and she stormed off without knowing one
of her breasts was hanging out.

Kids
pointed and stared, men did too without the pointing until the woman disappeared
into the bathroom. The guy sat their with a clusterfucked look on his face. He
was defeated. He knew there was no winning that one whether he was 100% right
or not. A guy to his left that had no business wearing a speedo (neither do I
for that matter) tossed him a beer and said “broads”, like he was
some extra off the set of “The Sopranos”, with his gold accessories
maybe he was.

I
wrote a few more things down, then finally went up to the bar to pay my tab. Luciana
had me down for a “water”, so I left a generous tip. As I was walking
in I got hit with an errant nerf football; I corralled it and tossed it back to
the kids that were throwing it. I started waking up as I was in the elevator
heading back up.

Still
hungry…

Stray Thoughts: 4/6-7/2017

Stray Thoughts: 4/6-7/2017

I started writing
this out on 4/6.

Watching the first
day of the Masters with Scott Van Pelt and Curtis Strange reminds me of the time
a group of my friends and I in a way crossed paths with Strange at the GGO in Greensboro.

This goes back to
91, or 92, 93 at the latest, but a group of us headed down to Greensboro to the tournament. I’m fairly
certain it was a Friday  and the first
stop was a grocery store for a couple of cases of beer. As you know some handle
alcohol better than others. Well, about four to five to some is like a twelve
pack to others, so before we were even out of the van things were getting loud.

We get there and

Then the day got in the way

Picked it back up
on 4/7.

We get there and
the first thing Andy(using YD&B
names again) does is nearly get in a fight with some guy waiting in line at the
porta-Jons. He had to go and jumped in line. At that point I slipped my watch
off and put it in my pocket because with the way his drunk was acting you had
to be on “alert”.

Seth and Jesse were
over there talking to the guy that Andy pissed off, now whether they were
trying to calm things down or stir it up even more who really knows.  Kelly and I walked over to one of the food
tents grabbing a BBQ sandwich and a Pepsi to wash it down.  Andy exits the porta-Jon and Seth sneaks in
saying “suckers”. Andy walked over to the food tent and got a box for
his food. I guess he was hungry. He had a little bit of everything in there.

We walked around
various spots, and there is usually two ways to approach a golf tournament. You
either follow a group around the course, or you stake out a spot and watch
everyone come through. The first half of the day we followed big hitter John
Daly around the course then in the afternoon we set up off to the right of a
hole right below the green. The bigger hitters could find their approach shot
on the green, the rest anywhere from 5-50 yards shy so we got to see a lot of
players chip on to the green.

Andy was worn out
and ready to go. He wanted a nap. He started off going down to one knee. Then
he sat down with his legs out and then he quite simply laid back. Before you
knew it he was snoring. Passed the fuck out on hole whatever at the GGO. If it
were televised(no clue about that), I’m sure the commentators would have had
some fun with him.

Curtis Strange
approaches his ball, he’s trying to chip it up on to the green and he looks
over at us. He backs off the ball and shakes his head. His caddy comes up to
see if he needed a different club. He points over towards us, well Andy, and
he’s laughing with his caddy.  He
approaches the ball again, he goes through the motions, looks up again over in
our direction and laughs again, shakes his head and backs off.  This time a PGA official with his group walks
up and Strange points again and the guy radio’s in to someone else.  Strange goes back to the ball, lines up, hits
it, it makes the green, and as he walks towards the green he yells over.
“Drink another one!”.

A few minutes
later, security rides up on a golf-cart and tells us that our friend needs to
stand up. One of us said, “you wake his fat ass up.” Seth walks over
and starts nudging him in the arm with his foot.  "Wake up" he says. Kelly says
“get up fat ass”. He finally starts to move and gets  up all in a panic, “what’s wrong? what’s
going on?”. We tell him that he passed out  and that Curtis Strange laughed his ass off at
him, and this security guard says you need to stand up.

We watch for a
little while longer, and finally decide we’ve had enough. We are on our way out
when Andy jumps in line at the porta-Jon again, this time telling the guy he
passed that he either goes first or he pisses right there.  The guy said “go ahead buddy”. Seth
is trying to talk Jesse into knocking it over, but Kelly and I looked at them
and said “are you that stupid?”
“While it would be funny as hell he has to ride home with us,
nobody wants that.” They agreed and we left.  

Andy was catching
his second wind a nap will do that for you. He then bellows out, “Take me
to a titty bar.”  Someone tells him
it’s 4 or 5 o’clock ( I put my watch back on)  and again he demands “Take me to a titty
bar.”   Then he remembers that some
topless establishment in Greensboro
has started a topless carwash, the problem was he didn’t know which one. So
down comes the window at the traffic light. The lady in the blue Volvo didn’t
know where the “topless car wash” was. So he orders Kelly to pull
into a gas station.   He comes out with
directions and we are on our way to a topless car wash.

They had a little
league style bench set up with your car right in front of it with 2-3 strippers
washing the car while music blared out of some over-worked speakers.  It was 20-25 dollars plus tips and Andy put
it on his grandfather’s credit card and after about 30 minutes we finally left.
We had to stop again at a gas station so Kelly could clean the
windshield(imagine that).

We get back on I-40
and head towards Winston-Salem
and Andy wants to stop and eat. “I’m Buying”, Seth says, “don’t
you mean Jackson
is buying”, “I’m buying everybody’s meal & drinks but
yours.” We pull into a Sagebrush and ate well.  A $350.00 bar/meal tab
later (Seth’s included) we climb back in the mini-van and head for home. 10
minutes after being back on the road Andy is snoring again.

After using my
friend Goo-gle, she’s still French, it seems the bar/carwash is still in
business and even found a New
York Times
article about it, it seems the guy wanted the space to make
money during the day, smart guy.

Seeing Curtis
Strange on TV reminded me of this story, so I thought I would share it. I’m
sure he’s seen many a drunk fucker on a golf course, but I do wonder if this
story would even register with him today.

Stray Thoughts: 3/29/2017

Different night,
different dream. This one had me walking a dog on the beach. The dog was a
black lab named Rufus. We were walking to the pier from the condo that I guess
I lived in, it didn’t seem like I was on vacation. Rufus was all boy, he wanted
to stop and inspect every bikini laying on the beach. I can’t say I blame him.

On the way back, approaching
the life guard stand, I started to walk slowly because the lifeguard looked
familiar. It looked like my old high school principal and he looked even more
out of place than that sentence would suggest to start with.  He was standing up in the seat and he was
wearing one of the those 1950’s lifeguard outfits with the striped tank top, boy
scout belt and matching trunks. The only thing he was missing that I would
think he would wear would be a swimmer’s cap to protect those curly locks(at
one point he got a perm, it was funny, he was known as Curley from that point
on). He was blowing his whistle like he was directing traffic, or doing the
robot. I’m not sure.(It should be noted he’s likely in his mid 70′s at this point). 

I pulled out my
phone and was about to call a friend and decided to turn around and try to snap
some casual pictures because I knew nobody would believe it.  I got a couple that were decent. I put the
phone in my fedora so I could review the images and send it out to a couple of
people. Then I called my friend and told him to check his text messages. He
belted out Brrrrrrrrruuuuuuucccccceee, which was the principal’s name, well,
before it Cuuuuuuuuulllllleeeeeeeeey.  So
it’s obvious this dream was laced with some actual memories. He asked,
“did you talk to him”?  I said
“Fuck no, I didn’t talk to him and tomorrow I’ll walk in a different
direction.”

I got off the phone
and walked up to the condo near the outdoor spicket, I call it a spicket, because
when I refer to an outdoor shower, this is not what I had in mind; I turned it
on, gave my legs a rinse then I let Rufus have his fun, getting cleaned. He
loved that. The girl from the cabana/bar off by the pool came over and gave him
his morning treat and he was happy. I said, “tell her thank you”, and
he “woofed”, I said “thank you and put some money in her tip
jar.”

I started to wake
up as I was walking back inside the building.

Stray Thoughts: 3/28/2017

With this entry we
take another strange trip to a dream I had last night. One that I can’t
pinpoint where the seed came from or even dare to begin to explain it.

It begin at a
restaurant/bar & grill in my hometown. I was standing there sipping a
whiskey with a couple of friends. The mood/setting made it seem like we were
simply unwinding and catching up following a viewing at a funeral home. Whose?
I don’t know. The dream itself seems familiar, where parts of it seem like a
memory, and parts I know have never happened.

We decide to take
them out on the side deck, which way back when would usually have either live
music, a DJ, or in the worst case scenario a karaoke machine going on. In this
case it was a man with a banjo and a long tall blonde woman with a microphone.
They were taking requests and the first song I recall hearing was “Love Me
Do” by The Beatles, which in my mind was pretty interesting to hear with a
banjo and a little twang.

Déjà vu is working overtime at this point because I
feel like I could swear on a Bible that I’ve typed parts of this out before, or
at least a part of it seems eerily similar.

We walk towards the
back of the patio (which is actually closer to the street), they had the stage
area deeper into the lot. All of the tables have been claimed. Some faces you
recognize, some you don’t. It was a warm summer evening and the sport coat was
a bit to warm so I offered to take all 3 to the car. Of course that gracious
offer came with a cost of picking up three more whiskeys and 3 more beers on my
way back through. The bartender asked how I was going to carry all that and I
said “just put it in a 6 pack container and I’ll manage.” I didn’t
know her but she looked familiar almost like a ghost of a 20 year old from long
ago. I asked, “Is there any chance your mother’s name is Karla?”. She
said, “yes it is, why?”.  I
responded with “You look so much like her it’s scary, not in a bad way,
just time machine type stuff.” She giggled and handed me the container. I
said tell her “Kevin from high school said hello”. She said,
“sure thing” and i turned and worked my way back outside and towards
my friends who had stalked out the table of women and a couple of guys closest
to us.  Turns out I knew most of
them.  One used to be a neighbor, I
hadn’t seen her in 15-20 years. If this were a movie, the banjo picker would be
picking a tune while the woman belted out “Brown Eyed Girl”, and
Niki even with blue eyes was living the lyric “my how you have
grown”.  I handed the cardboard
container to one of my friends and did the round of introductions and good to
see you and all that good stuff.

After seeing our
“driver”, kill two of three whiskeys I knew at that point I would be
the one driving and went with Coca-cola for the rest of the night. The music
played, the beer flowed and then there was a larger group crawling into my
buddy’s Suburban heading back to the Holiday Inn after a brief stop at a Wilco
to pick up some more beer, we continued the journey to the hotel. Everyone at
the table was in town for their 20th high school reunion which was officially
the next day/evening/night.

A couple of the
married couples decided to call it a night and appreciated the ride back to the
hotel. Seven of us made our way out to the pool. Even though I knew the
families that owned the hotel, I told my pair of drunken friends to try to keep
it down. You can’t help but know people in small towns.

I’ll stick with the
names I used for them in/on  YD&B,
Seth(it was his Suburban) had gone back to his room with two of the girls to
smoke some grass (they never returned).
Kelly, was sitting on the edge of the pool with a girl also named Kelly
and I was sitting at a table with Niki just talking about everything under
the sun.

The male Kelly wanted
me to toss him two beers, so I lobbed them up with enough distance that if he
didn’t catch them that in the very least they are in the pool as opposed to the
cement, but he caught each one. I opened two more handed one to Niki and took
a swig of my own.  

She told me about her brother’s job with Bank of America and how he was pretty
high up in the IT security section of it. We talked about her parents moving to
Cleveland, and then back to Winston-Salem, she showed me a picture of parents
and her mom hadn’t changed all that much but that section of hair her dad had around
his ears was now 97.4% gray. I don’t think I’d see him since my father’s
funeral. He’s the guy with the Fiat that I mentioned in a post at some point. 

She
told me about her marriage, the ups, the downs and then the divorce. She pulled
out her phone and said here is my little girl, and she told me to swipe through
some images. Like the bartender and her mom, her daughter Mary looked just like
she did when she was that age. I swiped back through basketball season,
Valentine’s Day, Christmas, Thanksgiving, and then when I got to Halloween, I
realized I saw something I shouldn’t see.
I put the phone down. I guess I had a physical reaction or something because
she asked, “What?”. I simply shook my head, smiled mouthing “not
a thing” and tried not to day dream. She picked the phone up and saw the
topless picture that she still had on the phone and she blushed. I said,
“It’s quite alright, it was breathtaking”.  Surprises can be like that. She blushed, I
smiled, she blushed some more and I simply said “beautiful”.

I’ll stop here… I
might finish it at some point.