Dinner in NYC - MORE BEER

One of the great things about where I grew up is that we were so damn close to New York City. Didn't particulary like to go there often, but you couldn't beat the music scene and it was a good place to go for some good, harmless(?) fun...

There was a place in the city that had this dinner promo where you go in, get a steak and they give you all the shrimp you can eat and all the beer you can drink... Beer? Did someone say BEER?!?!?!?!

Guess what? - we just HAD to check this shit out because it was too good to be true... how dare they challenge the DAWGS to all the beer you can drink!!! The simple FOOLS!!! Silly rat-bastards... we'll show them what "all the beer you can drink" really fucking means!!! HA!

So we go... we sit down, about 8 of us if I remember... the main character is GF - all 240 pounds of him.. the man who can eat an entire pizza by taking one slice and folding it over onto another and eating the damn thing like a single slice... he said it was to make him feel like he was only eating 4 slices instead of the full 8...

The waiter starts by asking for our drink orders... why BEER of course you silly little twit!!! Bring beer - lots of beer... and none of these pansy-ass glasses - WE WANT MANLY MUGS damn it!!!

Oh - and where's the damn shrimp? The simpleton points us to the shrimp bar... we observe... lines of people queued up for the shrimp... OK - we figure we'll play nice (for now) and get in line... GF grabs 2 plates and piles them high ... the rest of us one plate but equally piled high.

Damn - not bad.... then we choose our slab of meat... 8 young carnivorous guys from Joizy daring the scum from NYC to call us out... but no - they bring the meat!! Ah... more beer...

New bowls of shrimp hit the ice... we're there... .we got the timing down just right now... shrimp comes out, we queue up quickly to get the best of the lot and get back in time to catch the bastard clearing plates and trying to slink away without asking us if we want more brew... the bastard!!! We'll show him... BRING 4 MORE PITCHERS! HA!!

We were hunkered down for the better part of 2 and a half hours when the punk noticed that we were human after all and started to slow down and catch our breath...

"Are you gentlemen through?" he asks... What did you just call me you little freak???!!!!! Oh - sorry, of course I'll take my hands from around your throat - I thought you called me a name or something :-)

GF, without blinking, turns to the little terd and says totally deadpan - "NO, BRING MORE BEER"

After another 90 minutes of laughing, drinking, drinking and laughing (and filling in the dead time with more drinking) we were done... It's hard to tell how much $$ we cost that place that night since they so desperately wanted to get us the hell out of there, but we ate good, didn't harm anyone (at least physically, anyway) and left the poor punk a nice tip... we might have been loud, rude and crude, but we tipped well.

Epilogue - we have to figure that the only place for the poor fool who was saddled with serving us that night spent the next 5 or 6 years in therapy where he recounted the sheer gluttony he was forced to endure witnessing at the hands of the DAWGS. No amount of thorazine washed down with large amounts of Jack Daniels could have gotten the visions out of his head... To this day he probably wakes up drenched in a cold sweat screaming ... "Oh the HORROR!!! Make them stop!!! PLEASE MAKE THEM STOP!!!"

I've rambled long enough - where's my beer??

Pulling the Trailer with Mary Queen of Scotts and PN Quinn

GF was in a pretty funny mood one night.

Not sure what got him going, but we had to sign for the trailer (not that anyone was counting anything but the cigarettes that were on it).

One night he decided to sign the trailer "Mary, Queen of Scots"!!! That wasn't so bad and we forgot about it - HA HA, and we went on our merry way.

2 or 3 days later, the home office calls the store looking for the gal that signed for the trailer that night. Ironically the girl working the courtesy counter that night was named Mary!

Here's what I recall of the exchange:
Office: Yeah, can I talk to the girl who signed for the trailer Monday night?
Mary: No girl signed for the trailer - only the guys pull the trailer and sign.
Office: What did you say your name was?
Mary: Mary... why?
Office: Well, the paperwork has your name on it.
Mary: I didn't work on Monday night...
Office: Is there another Mary there?
Mary: Only in the bakery and she's not signing for the trainers either - what's the name on the paperwork?
Office: Mary - Mary Queen of Scots
Mary: (laughing histerically) - ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?!?!?
Office: What?
Mary: She's DEAD! You've been had! (still laughing)

Mary: (over the PA system) - GF, come to the courtesy counter or dial 91... (still laughing)....

Mary was a good sport and took our shit really well.

Another name commonly used was QUINN... Mr. PN QUINN

What do you want - we were goofy! :-)