I just wanted to share this story with you people. For some reason, I just really like it.
My friend George was in Sweden in 1994 during the World Cup. One day, he was in a packed bar watching the US play on TV. Of course, he was the only American in the entire place. And, given that he was an American, he didn’t really give two shits about the World Cup. Mainly, this was just another time to be drinking. Not that George would drink or anything…
Since it was the US playing, you can pretty much guess what happened. We lost. George was most definitely ok with that, since he didn’t care in the first place. However, the entire rest of the bar didn’t share his laissez-faire attitude toward the whole thing. Upon the loss, every last person in the bar bought George a drink to console his loss. He had his entire table filled with every type of drink you could imagine. I have to believe that must have been quite a sight. Even though George is not exactly a light weight (ask him about New Years Eve, 2001) I seriously doubt he was able to put them all away. I am willing to bet, however, that he gave it a most valiant effort. George if you read this, feel free to correct any mistakes or add anything I left out. I do love that story.
That story alone makes me want to visit Sweden. Of course, the 6′ blonde women might also play a small roll in that.
In the same vein of a ‘drink covered table’ I have one other story. This was Halloween probably 1998ish. Myself, and friends Chris and John were going to a local bar for their halloween party. It was being promoted by a radio station, and thus, they were advertising $0.97 draft beers. Well, hell… you can’t beat that deal. So we costume up and head down there. We get there and get our first beers and start to have a good time. When it came time for round 2, the bartender told us, “we’re ending that promotion… it was only good until 10:00”. Astonished, but resigned to paying full price for beers, we grudgingly accepted. Except for John, that is. Being the quick-on-his-feet kinda guy that he is, he pulls out a $20 bill, slaps it on the bar and says, “It’s 4 minutes til 10… give me 20.” The bartender looks a little caught off guard. He turns to his manager, who replies, “the man ordered them… serve them up.” So John, Chris, and myself start a fire-brigade style line to move these 20 beers from the bar to our parking lot… er… table. I do love that mental image of all those beers lined up on the table. We proceeded to drink those for the rest of the night. Sure, they got a little warm, but hell… once you get 3 or 4 drafts in, you really don’t care anymore.
A tremendous night all the way around. By the way, my costume was ‘windblown man’. I had an overcoat that mom sewed a wire hanger in the hem to make it fly away from my body. I put a hanger in a tie, and had it flinging back over my shoulder. I taped various leaves, newspaper bits, and various other trash type items to my coat, and pants. One of my greatest costumes ever.