30 May, 2004

Ark 2

I swear to Christ, if it keeps raining, I’m going to have to turn the pontoon boat into an ark. But I’ll be taking with me only human animals of the female species. Two of each flavor: black, white, Indian, Native American, Pacific Rim, Oriental, Hispanic. And once the rains have cleansed Southern Wisconsin of sinners, the ladies and I can procreate away.

Pete, Stevie, and I went out on Friday afternoon. The sun was shining, the temperature was moderate, and we had 2 coolers of refreshment. After cruising around Lake Mendota for a while, we headed back to Skipper Bud’s to pick up Stevie’s brother, sister-in-law, niece, and a friend of hers. This took a while as Becky (sister-in-law) had given her full attention to the sales guy there and was attempting to figure out how best to spend $20,000. When everyone was aboard we took off for Bourbon Street, a bar on the Yahara River where we would meet Andy, Amy, and Becca. We headed for the locks where Stevie and I had to convince the pulchritudinous maiden there that we had a pass but that it was with our companion whom we were going to get. She apparently didn’t give a rat’s ass and let us through. Pete took over sailing duties and got us across Lake Monona and over to Bourbon Street. There, Stevie’s family bailed for dinner while we took on 3 new passengers and proceeded to Lake Waubesa where Christy’s Landing lay. We hooked up to the dock and cozied up to the outdoor bar where Tanqueray & tonics were waiting for us. It was somewhere around this time that I began to speak only in pirate. I answered every question with an “Arr!”

”Tim – you need a beer?”

”ARRR!”

I just gotta get me a peg leg, eye patch, and a parrot.

By this time, it was dark out and we were pleasantly surprised that the running lights worked. Back to Bourbon Street where Andy, Amy, and Becca disembarked and we took on Pete’s sister, Claire, and her girlfriend, Tiffany. They came bearing gifts: Taco Hell for us drunk and hungry sailors. Despite cavitation problems, we made our way back to Mendota and snuck through the locks just before they were to close. Although it began to get chilly and windy, we took our time getting back to the slip. We got back onto land around midnight and headed home. On our way there, Stevie developed a case of the munchies so we stopped at Wendy’s. As we waited, I remarked that we weren’t asked if we wanted our orders to be Super-Sized. Stevie replied, “They made Super-Sizing illegal.” Pete then said, “If they make Super-Sizing illegal….”
Pause. 5 seconds of pause.

”Then only outlaws will have Super-Sizes.”

I laughed so fucking hard. OK, ya had to be there.

Some of you have left notes inquiring as to where the hell I am – thank you. I’ve been around reading your diaries. I think I’ve left the occasional comment as well. While I have a lot to write about, the words just never seem to flow. I’m a bit afraid to write much lest any of it become gospel. Virtually everything I think about has a penumbra of ambivalence cast upon it and no matter how much I cogitate, no definitive answers emerge. It’s getting to that time when I’ll just have to say “Fuck it!” and throw caution to the wind. The committees in my head have examined the problems yet come up with no definitive conclusions. So I’ll just have to flip a coin.

My business had picked up quite a bit, especially via word of mouth. I made nearly $300 one day last week. In addition, I received a rather handsome check yesterday. While it came to me only because of my father’s death, I am thankful for it. My credit card and car loan are going to be paid off on Tuesday and I will be almost debt-free. And I suppose being in a better financial position, I’ll feel more comfortable hitting on the frauleins. Not that I accuse all wimmin of being gold-diggers or any such thing but a man in a bar with a large wad of cash gets more attention that a guy with only a few bills. Just a piece of ass is all I require. The past couple Mondays I’ve hit on a couple baristas at CZ: Jolene and one whose name I don’t know. I stop in there infrequently but have had cause to go downtown a lot lately so I have been stopping in for refills. It’s not easy to chat with 2 hotties at the same time. The Unknown Barista is very extroverted and will start chattin’ me up. Jolene, on the other hand, lays low but she plays with her hair the whole time and it drives me crazy. She’ll twirl her locks around one of her forefingers while I’m standing there trying to come up with twice the normal quota of witticisms as my mind’s eye pictures me bending her over the counter and rogering her from behind. I just know that one of these times I’m going to let loose a Freudian slip of biblical proportions which will get me permanently banned from CZ.
My 2 favorite baristas are not faring so well. JimmyD is coping but The Caffeinatrix is beginning to crack. She owns the joint, after all, so she shoulders an even greater burden than Downtown. A couple weeks ago when I was there, I asked her how her day off went and she replied that she spent it alternately sleeping and crying. I felt incredibly bad for her. It was just a horrible week for her – I lent her my ear for many hours. Yesterday she informed me that she and Henry are the last couple in her circle of friends that is not pregnant or doesn’t have children so she made me take a blood oath that I would remain childless with them.

I suppose that, despite all of the stress and sadness, I’m just extremely grateful that I have them as friends. The past year has had more downs than ups for me but acquiring JimmyD and The Caffeinatrix as friends is certainly one of the highest highs.
Well, I have to get ready to head over to Dogger’s to game. Miss Regan is getting big. And she’s learning to crawl. Last weekend she hung out with us. Pete put on down on the table on her belly and her little legs started kickin’ but her arms just aren’t strong enough yet so she started going in circles. She’s funny.

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