Lost Hats and Drunk Russians

Well so much for that whole posting more often thing. Regardless of my writing sloth, I do have stories to share, like this one regarding my past weekend. On Friday I get some barbecue after work with a couple coworkers, and I'm asked if I want to go downtown to the bars later. I think to myself, "Maybe just a drink or two," and the Universe proceeded to shoot space-milk out its nose laughing so hard.


Experts have created this reconstruction of the crime scene.

I get a call Saturday morning from my partner-in-crime, asking if I knew where her wallet was. I replied that maybe it was at the bar Who's Bob, since that was the last bar we were at. She informs me that, Who's Bob was most definitely not the last bar we were at. Uh oh. On my couch I find an unfamiliar brown scarf that must be my friend's, so I bring it to work and am informed that she's never seen it before.


I stole a stranger's scarf.

I somehow make it through work on Saturday and then try and fit in a nap before I have to go out again for a coworker's going-away party. Now, I was so out of it that I had forgotten to put on my hat that night, so imagine my surprise when the bartender comes up to me, with my hat I didn't even know was missing, and says that I left it there last night. Shit. I talk to my friend and get more details about this mysterious Friday, and I'm told the Pizza-in-a-Cup lady actually had her wallet. The Pizza-in-a-Cup lady, is of course, the lady who owns the street cart that sells tiny pizzas in paper cups. They are delicious and she is apparently a very trustworthy woman.

Now, this Saturday night I am being uncharacteristically prudent and sticking to only one drink, a Guinness from the tap. I have some sensible, boring conversations with my coworkers, including the one who's leaving, and I notice this really old guy with a huge camera hanging around. He's a hunched-over guy who must be at least in his 50s, and every time someone at our table takes a picture of someone, he insists on also taking the same picture with the big SLR around his neck. Since it isn't a Polaroid camera, I have to assume these pictures are for some personal collection that I don't want to know about.

Regardless, we mostly ignore him, until finally he brings over a couple shots of Jager. One shot for him, and one shot for my friend, whom I guess has caught his fancy. She doesn't quite know what do with his gift, so she offers the shot to the coworker leaving, it being his going-away party and all. Old Guy doesn't like that one bit, and proceeds to throw the second shot in coworker's face.

Oh yeah, things got interesting real quick. My coworker leaps out of his chair and shoves the guy, who is surprisingly spry for his age. He's on his feet and trying to fight back before half a dozen other people are up and holding the two apart. A lot of nasty words are thrown around, and some of them must have had a Slavic tinge because everyone starts screaming for "the Russian" to get the hell out. The bartender, shrewd businessman that he is, does not force him out, but instead makes him stand at the end of the bar by the door. Coworker, white shirt ruined and hair dripping with Jager, has understandably had enough and leaves the bar, with everyone in tow (although there is a delay due to another bitchy coworker who instead of leaving wanted to scream shrilly at the Russian for about 10 minutes).

Outside the bar, we find out that one member of our group, took a blow in the brouhaha and his lip is busted open. He heads off to the hospital for stitches, Mike goes to another bar, and I stay at Commune's with some other people for a comparatively unexciting half an hour, during which time the sad highlight is when My Bloody Valentine's "Sometimes" come on, when I had 5 minutes ago been thinking silently about requesting it. It was a pretty neat moment, before I went home and stayed up till 7am playing Dragon Age.

Oh, some non-weekend stuff that happened:

-I had a student lose a tooth in class. He went to the bathroom, came back, and didn't want to go to the office when I offered, saying that he was fine, it was just a tooth. My training didn't cover what to do in this situation, so I just went on with class. Next week: The story of how Jamie got sued.

-I'm thinking about buying a hedgehog after I saw one in a department store the other day. I always wanted one as a kid, but I'm a little worried the temptation to paint it blue would be too great.

-Apparently a bunch of Stormtroopers marched through downtown Daegu, and according to some sources, danced. This was all probably in promotion of the new Adidas Star Wars shoes, which are super sweet. Unfortunately, they were sold out of every size when I went to buy them. Fuck you, misleading Stormtrooper demonstration.


You will be mine. This I swear.