Crap

… is how I’m feeling.


I consider myself a pretty smart guy. I generally make good decisions and those seem to work out for me. However, there are times when I make really poor decisions. Like with what happened this past weekend and specifically yesterday. Ok, let’s back up.

On Friday, I did the Happy Hour Hero thing (see previous post) but still got home around midnight where I forced my roommate’s friend to watch “Love, Actually” with me. I freaking love that movie and since my roommate’s friend is a girl, it made it slightly less gay. But it was still a night of heavy drinking. Bad move number one.

Saturday was the OSU/Michigan game, which required me to go to a bar, drink $1 Miller Lite drafts and watch my Buckeyes take care of that school up north. After the game, I went home, took a nap and then headed downtown to a friend’s birthday party. The party wound up moving to a bar where shots were ordered. I wound up staying downtown that night (good move). But the full day of drinking was definitely a bad move.

I woke up around 9:30 on Sunday and remembered that some other friends of mine were tailgating for the Browns/Dolphins game. So, like any normal person, I went straight to the tailgate wearing the same clothes that I had on the night before. No shower. No brushing of teeth. No deodorant. A few screwdrivers later, I headed to a bar to watch the game.

I should’ve gone home immediately after the game. That would’ve been smart. Instead, I stayed for a few more hours and then headed home. Once I got home, I ate chili (very bad move) and got a bunch of it all over the white shirt I was wearing. I then went to bed around 7:00 hoping to sleep off the weekend until my alarm was scheduled to go off 12 hours later. Um… Not quite. I woke up around 10:30, couldn’t fall back asleep, watched some TV and did some reading, tried falling back asleep around 1:15 and basically tossed and turned all night. I didn’t even sleep up until my alarm, instead, getting up almost 45 minutes earlier than normal. The result? Me feeling like death and probably looking like it too. So, for the first half of today, I was a freaking zombie at work. The worst part is that I’m stuck doing a mind numbing project for someone else.

So that was my weekend. And that is why I feel like the title of this post.

Happy Hour Heroes

There's a great article on Phat Phree that describes the Happy Hour Heroes. If you're too lazy to click on the link, it basically describes the working folk who use Happy Hour as an excuse to drink for 9 hours in their business clothes. These are the guys that you see at the bar at 2 am with sweat stains under their arms, their ties wrapped around their heads, and a gin and tonic on the front of their shirts. And just so often (read: every week) I participate in this ritual.

Last night, a girl in the office "won" a Happy Hour at a bar in downtown Cleveland. Basically, all we "won" was free food, but hey, that's cool. Anyway, there were a few older guys from the office out joining us younger workers to try and drink away the pain of being married and having kids. I would suggest that if you have the chance to drink with older coworkers (preferably male), do it for the following reasons:

1. The mid-forties coworker (MFCW) will almost always buy way too many rounds to show the other MFCWs that he's making some serious money. All you have to do is keep pace and you drink for free. It's that simple. I got to the bar last night at 5:30 and didn't pay for a drink until 8:00. You do the math.

2. The MFCW will also tend to hit on the younger female coworkers and their friends regardless of whether or not MFCW is married. This is both funny and uncomfortable, which to me is a perfect combination. These pathetic displays almost always include the phrases, "Don't ever get married" and "No, I'm not hitting on you."

3. Moderate levels of swearing are OK in some offices, but come Happy Hour, the MFCW will suddenly sound like a trucker on meth. This leads in perfectly to my next point...

4. War Stories. These include both work related war stories and college war stories. The college war stories are the best because they're so far fetched you can actually see the thought process while they're being told. "You kids today don't know SHIT! Back in my day, we didn't buy beer, we, uh, STOLE it. Yeah! From cops! Hot female cops who we had, uh, sex with while we were stealing it! What? FUCK YOU! Anyway... It was AWESOME! Who wants another drink? I'm buying!"

5. The call to the wife. This is by far the best part. There is only one thing that can take down MFCW besides that third shot of tequila: the wife. This call usually signals the end of the night for MFCW. The wife is pissed and MFCW is gonna get an earful when he comes home. The wife is able to reduce the once brash, loud MFCW into a groveling mess. It's almost a little sad. Except it's not.

So here's to you, Happy Hour Heroes. Hope that hangover goes away by Monday.

First Post

I had to create this so I could leave a comment on my friend's blog. Maybe I'll stick with it. Maybe I won't. We'll see.