Thursday, October 28, 2010

The Attack of the Stage 15000 Clinger

So we all know those chicks who your friends tell you “dude, stay away.”  These are what we in the business call the psycho clinger.  This night started when the sun was still up.  I had just finished my last day of work before a two week break and I was very much in the mood to celebrate.   Luckily so was Pint Size.
A perk of living with an awesome 18 year old is that they are always down to party.  She was already starting before I even got off work.  I call and meet up with her at this birthday “party” where she and her friends had started the day with a beer and had already had a few when I show up.  I quickly join in through one of my favourite drinking games, Circle of Death.  For those of you that aren’t big partiers (and you should change that because well I like to party and pretty much I’m awesome), the game basically is just a more structured way to down beer after beer.  Fun times for all.
So after a game or two and a beer of 10 we move inside and apparently the doorstep was a time machine back to my freshman year of college.  The room had that familiar aroma of cigarettes, alcohol, weed, sex and shame.  I have smelled this so many times that I knew it was going to be a good night.  I was wrong at this point.  The next 2 hours are a slight haze.  I was sitting in a room with college kids and suddenly realized that this party had officially reached lame.
I go to Pint Size and decide that the two of us are way too awesome to sit around with some gigantic stoners who frankly couldn’t hang.  So her idea is to call the twins (Axel and Counter our other flatmates).  Called them up, and the real night begins.  Pint Size decided to stay there, and I don’t really blame her.  Her chances in a house that had an 8-1 sausage to taco ratio were much better than mine.
The house was only about a 5 minute walk from our house and next thing I know I see the twins and my first prospect of the night (we’ll call her Demi).  They have also begun drinking and found a new and inventive way to use jars that used to contain olives.
Sidebar: So the backstory on this Demi chick is she’s 31, divorced, and has a couple of kids.  Normal me says stay away (because to be honest I can do better), but drunk me thinks only two words “she’ll do.”
Off to town we go.  The bustling metropolis of Invercargill has about 50,000 people and quite a few bars.  The one we chose had a band and was “a good mix of ages” which turned out to be most 40 and older.  It was pretty much your average bar with a band but the band was not bad for a cover band full of guys in their 30s still trying to make it and never giving up on their dream.   For those of you who do know me you know how amazing of a dancer I am.  I mean Kevin Bacon has nothing on these moves.  So me, the twins, and Demi take the dance floor by storm.  I am about 12 beers deep at this point and decide it’s time to remember that smooth refreshing taste that only Mr. John Jamison can provide.
A drink, a few songs, and some rug cutting later the twins head to the bar to get the next round.  To me this means keep dancing and being awesome.  To Demi this means stick her tongue in my mouth.  I had barely spoken to this chick and now we’re making out on a deserted dance floor in the middle of a crowded bar.  “This is too easy” thought the very drunk me and as much as I like a challenge, some nights there is nothing better than a sure thing.  The more we’re at the bar, the more Demi decides that touching me is fun.  Meanwhile, the Counter and Axel have taken separate occasions to tell me not to sleep with this chick.  “She’s crazy!”  “She’ll never leave you alone!” they say, and normal me keeps my distance but all drunk me is thinking “she’ll do.”
But back to that in a second.  The house that I’m currently living in has two other flatmates (call them Max and Monkee).  They come up to meet us at the bar and Monkee could not physically have been drunker.  He has a goofy smile and beer spilled all down his shirt.  Now, he’s a nice enough guy but seems to have some trouble in the ladies department.  So I decide that it’s up to me to pull off a great wingman moment.  I see him sitting at a table by himself with a couple of decent looking girls just one table away.  So once again I think to myself “she’ll do.”  I walk over (in retrospect, I had a much better chance but I was trying to help out a fellow bro) and say hello.  “By the way, have you met Monkee?” (note: I used his real name.  No girl in their right mind goes for a guy who affectionately calls himself Monkee).  They begin talking and I walked back to Demi and the twins.  I turn around about 10 seconds later and he looks like he’s about to pray to the porcelain gods and the girl has turned back to her friend laughing hysterically.  I guess I’ll have to wait for a time when he’s a little less drunk to try to play wingman.
Anyways, back to the guy who’s actually interesting.  The band finishes and we decide it’s time to head back to the house.  While waiting what seems like an hour for the cab to arrive, Demi decides that picking up the give way sign (NZ for stop sign) is a good idea.  I was pretty smashed but even I knew this was not a good idea.  Demi is not that strong apparently and I look up to see a give way sign not very slowly falling towards my head.  I was somehow able to summon all of my amazing reflexes to catch the sign about 5 inches from my forehead.  We put it back in and are headed home, with me presuming that a long night is ahead of me.  “What the fuck is the matter with this chick?  She almost crushed my skull with a fucking give way sign?” is what I should have thought.  But “she’ll do” was the only thing on my mind that night.
Back at the house I’m still getting warnings and she’s getting more and more touchy.  I knew that it was only a matter of time before the gimp room claimed another victim.  After some mixing cup margaritas Axel is about ready to pass out.  She however does manage to open the door to see me and Demi making out with her hand down my pants.  This is where the girl should have gotten the hint that I was only interested in sleeping together and nothing else because I respond to her “what the hell’s going on in here” with a “eh, I’m bored what else am I going to do?”  She then passes out a few minutes later.  One cock block down.  Then out of nowhere Counter and Demi leave to walk to the store.  I found out later that Counter was trying to get rid of Demi to “help me.”  I didn’t care, I had not worked very hard and was going to see this through to the end.
Once Axel was out, Counter turned from cock block to wingwoman.  She disappeared for a minute so we could go upstairs.  And upstairs we went.  We’re barely in the bedroom when both sets of clothes are off.  Now I am fairly private about what happens behind closed doors but this has to be told.  In the process of switching positions she pushes me off the bed and proceeds to fall on top of me.  Ouch!  I get up and collect my thoughts because now I’m just getting a little annoyed.  I was going to get mine and get out.  Well we finish up and I go to pass out on my single bed which isn’t made for cuddling with someone you don’t care about at all.  She then asks if she should stay or not.  Usually I’m a nice guy and will let the woman spend the night if she was any good (nothing better than morning sex.  For my money it’s the best way to start a day.) but she this chick had already tried to kill me with a sign, tackled me in bed, and quite possibly the worst thing, called me babe.  The next thing I said to her (and last thing I remember of the night) was “I don’t care if you stay or go but this is a small bed and I’m not much of a cuddler.” 
Now I know this is not that nice but it made me laugh at the time and still does.  I proceed to pass out and when I wake up she’s gone.  Now it’s always nice to get souvenir but this one was priceless.  I had at no point in the night told her my last name, my phone number or asked for hers.  But sitting right next to my bed was an unopened condom with her phone number on it (it has since been used with someone else).  Classic stuff.  I had previously been warned that this chick was crazy but I had no idea.  In the span of the next 2 days I had a friend request on facebook with a message from her and she had called the twins no less than 10 times asking for me.  I still have not spoken to her or acknowledged her existence in any way.  But High 5 for me and until next time friends, some advice : go out and be awesome wherever you are!

From Pell Shitty to the Other Side of the World

Yeah it’s me.  If you don’t know me already then you’ve probably heard of me at some point or another or will by the end of reading this.  Purely a story of a young man making it big in this world and the awesomeness that has gotten me to this point.  First off let me introduce myself, I am Zack aka “Tha Jew” an amazing guy from Alabama who is on an adventure to see the world and have experiences that none of you will ever believe or get to have also.  Now I know what you are thinking, who is this asshole and why is he important?  Well you could be right, maybe I am just some asshole or maybe I’m a guy with simple tastes, who likes to party, and is incredibly good looking.  So here is my tale.
Since the dawn of time man has wanted to see everything this great big planet we call Earth has to offer and that is what I’m doing.  Much like the explorers of years past I’m out to discover things that other people already knew existed long before I was born.  And this story begins on the bottom of the world.  Invercargill, New Zealand to be exact.  But first let’s flash back to see how this awesome guy in front of you got to be this awesome.
The year: 2007
The place: DJ’s house in Jacksonville, Alabama
The scenario: Rugby World Cup 2007 final match (South Africa defeats England 15-6 in one of the most boring games of rugby I’ve ever seen)
Everyone who goes to college finds their niche.  For some people it’s greek life, school activities for others.  Mine was the Fighting Gamecocks of the Jacksonville State University Rugby Club.  For those of you unfamiliar, no that is not the one with the sticks, no we don’t wear pads or helmets, and yes everything you’ve heard about us did actually happen and more so than you can imagine but that is a different story.   I had some amazing experiences and too many nights that we will never remember (but those are stories for another time).  At this point I was in my 5th year of college (what? I like to party) and the team had all crammed into a small living room, paid our money to drink and enjoy the game, then to party afterwards which is where our story happens to begin.   I was outside refilling my cup with some always terrible tasting keg beer and talking with my two best friends.  My bros if you will.  They were my roommate (let’s call him Fosh) and another teammate (he will be Wilson).  There we were discussing the game and talking about the next world cup when Wilson informs me that the next one is in New Zealand.  This is where the three of us decide (well more like Wilson and myself with Fosh having already had about three quarters of a bottle of whiskey which made him revert back to the drunken, head-butting redneck from whence he once came) that the three of us would somehow, someway, be in New Zealand to be in attendance for the next instalment of the biggest party in the world.
Fast forward over 2 years into the future (so let’s jump into that delorean and gun it to 88)
The year: 2009
The place: Outside Fosh’s apartment
The scenario: End of the week bro hangout, no major plans on the agenda
So since my graduation from college I had begun my new life as an adult.  (Writer’s note: for those of you who are considering this, I warn you that it’s not all it’s cracked up to be and stay young and attractive as long as possible)  I was living in Pell Shitty (affectionate nickname for one of the most god awful towns in the history of this great planet) and working as a high school math teacher.  That’s right people out there in internet land this guy is responsible for moulding young minds.   The same guy that has never dreamed of anything bigger than getting fucked up on a beach with a few locals to occupy my time is actually responsible for other people’s children.  But I digress.  Fosh was also about to begin his adult life and was finishing up an internship and desperately looking for a job.  Now my memory is a little hazy but I believe it went something like this.
Fosh: “dude, life-altering idea that you need to hear so get your ass up here”
Me: “already on my way, almost killed one of the little fucks today, need whiskey”
Arrived at his apartment
Me: “what up bro.  I have got to get the fuck out of this town, it’s fucking depressing”
Fosh: “I have the solution to all of our problems.  New Zealand.”
Me: “that’s crazy, how can we just… fuck it, I’m in”
The next day I started investigating and 5 months later I’m on a skype interview for a job in Invercargill, New Zealand.  7 minutes later, I am accepting a job in Invercargill, New Zealand.  Dear boring life in shitty town, the kid says “peace out loser, I’m going to New Zealand.”
August 2010 I depart from Los Angeles after spending 4 amazing days with the “girl of my dreams” (let’s call the bitch Lindsey).  She was going to be living there and I was moving to New Zealand, we were going to beat the odds and show that long distance can actually work.  For anybody considering this, stop, change your mind now.  Just break it off, immediately! 
After a 16 hour flight and 2 days in airports, I arrived and fuck was it cold.  I went from sunny hot California to the middle of winter at the bottom of the world.  For the first month of being here in the strange land I was trying to get adjusted, get settled, and make a relationship 7000 miles away work.  I had my original room given away, got kicked out of the next place I was staying, and ultimately ended up in my current location (I would tell you those stories but they are kind of sad and depressing and let’s face it, nobody wants to read about that, so I will continue with the parts of my life which are awesome.  These parts begin when I wake up and last until I go to bed, and sometimes until afterwards when I fall asleep.  High 5!)
Adventure New Zealand officially begins
At Flat Jackson, we know how to party.  It is an old house with 4 bedrooms and my room.  We call it the gimp room.  It is smaller than quite a few closets and has something living in the ceiling.  Some would consider it a rough place but I call it a challenge (and in the words of the great Barney Stinson “challenge accepted”).  We will start this great story on a Friday night and a whiskey and coke in my hand and a skype phone call from Lindsey.  We had a fight and had not spoken in about 3 days when she calls.  I bet you have already noticed by the tone that would be our last conversation.  She decided that she could not handle it and dumped me.  Now we have all been dumped before and everyone knows that it sucks.  Well I have some news for you, it was the best thing that has ever happened to me.  So I head downstairs and proceed to drink my weight in whiskey and cokes with two of my flatmates.  These are soon to be main characters in my story (so let’s give them names, we’ll go with Pint Size and Axel).  Pint Size is an 18 year old student who knows how to party and is always up for it.  Axel is a 25 year old twin.  Her and her sister (let’s go with Counter) are the only set of twins that don’t scare me.  I’m usually very tolerant of all people.  I hate mostly all of them equally (except Gingers.  Soulless bastards, stay away from the sun before you turn completely into a demon) but twins or all multiples (high 5!) have always freaked me out.  Now if I happen to meet a set of hot twins down for a little “family bonding time” I wouldn’t say no.  In fact I would probably broadcast that story on the internet.  But again, I digress.
My first taste of Kiwi Fruit
Single for officially 5 days but it might have well been about a month and a half (ps long distance doesn’t exactly make for good sex) when we decide it’s time to officially hit the town and play a little game called “have you met Zack?”  It actually happens to be my new favourite game, but some advice: it’s difficult to play this game by yourself or going out with women as your wingmen and on this night I had 2 of them Pint Size and another flatmate (go with Max).  The night started off by Mexican bingo at a bar (Mexican Bingo?  In New Zealand?  It’s really just regular bingo at a bar with a guy in a sombrero giving away prizes from the bar with cheap tequila shots).  I don’t know how many of you know what New Zealand is famous for, anybody?  No guesses?  Well I’ll tell you, Kiwi’s don’t have a history of great thinkers (not that they are dumb, well a lot of them are), they may not be the most attractive (understatement for many of the women of Invercargill but we do alright), but New Zealanders can drink or “get on the piss” as they call it.  They start in the morning and don’t stop until the next morning and that’s what we did that night.
So Mexican bingo, hitting on randoms, and a fat chick who seemed to have eaten the hot ones in town were how I spent the first few hours of that night.  So after a few pitchers, some losing at bingo, and some flaming shots later we left for bar number 2.  The town was officially dead and this night was not quite living up to my expectations.  So after trying a few more dead pubs and drinking a few more beers we decide to try one more when we decide to try one more place before calling it a night.  Finally, people are out tonight!  More whiskey and now off to show off my epic dance moves.  (My dance moves are actually terrible, not only do I dance like a white guy, I dance like a Jewish white guy but dammit when I’m drunk you would actually mistake me for Kevin Bacon.  Maybe actually Kevin James).  I come back down to get another drink when I see Max talking to 2 decently attractive girls (I’m going with a 6 and a 7 and me being drunk and hard up added points on top of that) so I walk up and have some fantastic line which I don’t honestly remember at this point (the joys of alcohol, marijuana, and too many times hit in the head) and the next thing I know I’m at the bar with her buying me a drink.  Now I had never been that great in a bar but it seemed like this girl (we’ll call her Kim) was very much attracted to this awesome guy with the sexy accent.
I still have no idea what we talked about nor will I ever give a damn but 2 more bars and losing our friends later, we were having a drink by ourselves.  Next thing I know we are kissing in the middle of the bar.  My first kiss in New Zealand would not last long when our table was invaded.  Now I realize that I’m usually a guy who makes scenes in bars but I don’t often walk upon a table of people making out and sit down to have a conversation.  But this gigantic bloke and his 3 friends decided that was the idea.  Now not only was this guy way too drunk to stand (possibly the reason for the interruption) but he also had the popular hair of Invercargill and the southern US circa 1988.  I’m of course talking about the legend known as the mullet.  Now this hairstyle’s only appeal is…. Well, there is no appeal to the mullet.  It should be insulted at all times by everyone everywhere.  But luckily for us he was sticking around for a while.  The more he drank, the louder he got and the more I made fun of this glorious mullet.  Next thing I know the bar is closing and it’s that time.  That time that separates the winners from the guys who go home and jerk off.  Now as you’re reading this you know that I’m awesome now but in the past had not always been so.  But honestly did you think I would tell this story if it didn’t have a happy ending for yours truly.  Cab and condoms acquired and we’re headed back to the gimp room. 
Now to give you a little more details, the gimp room is about 12ft x 7ft.  It’s big enough for a single bed and that’s about it.  There are also 2 dressers that prevent walking around or opening the door fully and I was about to bring a girl back to it for my first time with as a foreigner (international high 5!)  So as one thing leads to another and you have already guessed how this story ends for the hero.  She then takes a cab home and I go to sleep happy.  First real night on the town = Success for all!  As for Pint Size and Max that night, Pint Size had a douchebag boyfriend that she went home to and Max struck out. 
So I saw Kim one other time, and let’s just say that I’m really glad it was dark all night because daylight is just not flattering to some people.  This guy however looks amazing in all lights!
Hope you enjoyed my first story and stay tuned for more.
Up next: The attack of the stage 15000 clinger.