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Last night the Cardinals won mainly because So Taguchi hit a pinch hit home run. I know many of you aren’t baseball fans, but let me tell you how odd an occurrence this is. The minute he hit that homerun, I called Brother Tom in St. Louis. The conversation went a little something like this:
“Holy shit, Tom. Did that actually just happen?”
“Dude, I was just about to call you. I couldn’t believe it.”
Tom and I do the “Holy Shit Dude” call about two times per regular season, so you know this was huge.
Some other highlights from the evening? You sure? All right then, if you insist.
Reason number thirty seven why I love The Local Pub: bartender Emmy has a bad back. Basically, her lower back is in a great deal of pain and she constantly needs massages. And I’m good at massages. Now, these massages typically take a lot out of me, and are not easy (her back is really messed up) and in the end, my hands end up cramping. This is not why I love massaging Emmy. I love massaging Emmy because, while I’m rubbing her down and she’s letting out shrieks of joy, every guy in the bar looks at me like Ed McMahon just showed up at my house with a jumbo-sized novelty check. There are people (women too) who would pay for this honor. Pay! And it’s practically my duty. I’m practically obligated to play with the muscles of a beautiful college girl while baseball cap wearing men look on futilely. And you thought you had it good.
Some returning college fraternity guy almost cried when he found out that The Local Pub had gotten rid of Killian’s on tap and replaced it with Yuengling Light. Personally, I thought it was a bad move as well, but I handled it with grace (read: bitched for about ten seconds). This kid lost it. His friends had to cajole him into purchasing another brand of beer. I asked the kid to explain how he felt, and this is what he said: “Dude, it’s like, this is my first day back from Pennsylvania. And I sit down, and all I want to do is go to The [Local] Pub and suck down a pint of Killian’s. But there’s no Killian’s. This is my first day back. This is a total omen. If this is how the rest of the year’s gonna go, I might as well just hang myself.”
“Relax” I said. “I’ll buy you a beer. Want a Killian’s in a bottle?”
“No man,” he said. “I don’t wanna spoil myself. I just have to learn to accept the cold, hard truth.”
“Keep your chin up.”
Jason, a bouncer at The Smoky Pool Hall, was hanging out in The Local Pub last night. He recently removed the cast on his broken hand, four weeks before he was supposed to, by himself. The next day, he re-broke his hand in a fight at work. And this guy keeps a GPA over three points at USF. It’s a fine institution, it is.
Okay, so there’s one more game tonight. Which means… well, you know where I’ll be.