Saturday, September 07, 2013
Center Street Days. One of the last festivals of the summer. I went early because this was a good one last year. Early was a bad idea, it hadn't really started raining yet. By the time I hit Center, it had started coming down and the thunder was getting bad, so the vendors were packing up their wares. I made a lap just to see who wasn't bitching out before heading home to get dry shoes after the rain stopped.
It cleared up after an hour, so time to head back out and watch the bands and see if the dodge ball tournament where my Sunday night bartender promised to be dressed as Napolean, representing the bar's team. It appeared the tournament was off, but Jean was there waving a French flag, drunkenly shouting something about France. Welp, time to get some beers because I'm not paying $5 for light beer. Pick up a sixer, head back out. Dodge ball is back on. Drink some more. I'm on the lookout for the girl who used to have fire engine red hair because I decided that there's a chance, however small, that she's just a person, kind of like I am and she'd probably not be gravely offended if I told her I liked the flowers in her hair and so maybe I should do that at the last shindig of the summer. I'm three beers in for the dodgeball tournament where the bartenders from my bar are taking on teams of bros, one that called themselves Average Joes like a bunch of unimaginative bastards.
But that's where this anti-climactic story stops. No sign of that girl, the bartenders got destroyed, 0-4 in a round robin tournament. Walk home drunk from yet another summer festival.
said Tommy T. at 10:01 PM - #
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It cleared up after an hour, so time to head back out and watch the bands and see if the dodge ball tournament where my Sunday night bartender promised to be dressed as Napolean, representing the bar's team. It appeared the tournament was off, but Jean was there waving a French flag, drunkenly shouting something about France. Welp, time to get some beers because I'm not paying $5 for light beer. Pick up a sixer, head back out. Dodge ball is back on. Drink some more. I'm on the lookout for the girl who used to have fire engine red hair because I decided that there's a chance, however small, that she's just a person, kind of like I am and she'd probably not be gravely offended if I told her I liked the flowers in her hair and so maybe I should do that at the last shindig of the summer. I'm three beers in for the dodgeball tournament where the bartenders from my bar are taking on teams of bros, one that called themselves Average Joes like a bunch of unimaginative bastards.
But that's where this anti-climactic story stops. No sign of that girl, the bartenders got destroyed, 0-4 in a round robin tournament. Walk home drunk from yet another summer festival.
said Tommy T. at 10:01 PM - #
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