We went to our favorite seafood restaurant in posh Grosse Pointe (yes, the same one the John Cusack movie was from). A few minutes before our food arrived, two friends of ours showed up and pushed a table up against ours saying, “We’re gonna to join you, m-kay?” They had just come back from a wine tasting and were fairly hammered. We said it was fine if they didn’t mind us eating in front of them. Our food arrived just then.
The waitress
Our waitress was a 40-ish Asian woman named Mai who was a little too eager to please. She also had the puzzling habit of rubbing my shoulders every time she came to the table. The girlfriend was amused by this and said, “She love you long time.”
We’ve got crabs
As I mentioned, our friends had previously tasted 11,204 glasses of wine so there was some slurring and table thumping. The husband was clearly more drunk than his wife and when he saw my girlfriend’s huge plate of crab legs, he stammered out to our Asian massage therapist, “I want shumma those! Crabs! Those look gooooood. Can I—can I have shum?”
Waitress: “Oh, of course you can, sir! I would love to bring you some. It is my greatest pleasure to help you.” Seriously.
Buttered up
The husband friend is a successful attorney who represents several well-known indie bands, so it was no surprise he was in an expensive, Italian suit. But inebriation, Armani and crab legs do not good bedfellows make. Within minutes, his shirt was sporting some rather generous butter stains. In his drunken logic, he determined the best thing to do was summon over Mai and ask her if the restaurant sold t-shirts. They did and she was so delighted to be asked this most wonderful task and rushed off to get one.
Striptease
Meanwhile, our friend was feeling embarrassed by the fiesta of butter on his shirt. I would have framed the shirt and sold it on eBay as an original Pollock, but he began unbuttoning his shirt much to his wife’s displeasure. He had unbuttoned all the way to his navel when Mai arrived with the t-shirt. “Hey I doan want that shirt ennymoar. I was jesh kidding. Did you guys shink I was kidding?”
“No,” we replied in unison.
“Well, I wuzh. Thank you for tracking it down—I’m shir it’s a great shirt but I jesh need t’take this one off.”
“Oh uh sir? Could you please keep your clothes on in the restaurant?” asked Mai.
“Sherious?”
At this point, other patrons were getting visibly disturbed and asked for their checks. We did the same and upon exiting, the bartender whispered to us, “You two are like freak magnets, I swear. How do they find you?”
do you ever have a normal day, dave? :wtf:
pics plz or gtfo! 😛
Weirdo magnets galore: I feel your pain. For many years I ran cybercafes in different places in south America. There was not a day that I would not get a nut-case begging for help because he had been abducted by aliens and had strange metal sensing powers. Or that they were sure that they had been implanted with that thing that Arnold had stuck up his nose in Total Recall. Or that they were sure that people would naturally find their website about their totally lame hobby simply because they put it on Geocities. Or that they could compile a wonder (printed) web directory by looking at Nutscrape’s history and declaring them to be the best links on the Internet and that people would buy it. Of course this guide published in 1996 had the awesome statement that there were billions and billions of web pages indexed by Altavista. This goofball also thought that the search box on the Novell website was an excellent search engine.
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You mean none of that is true? :wtf:
Sure Dave, go to the novell site and punch in “nude pics of Mandy” and see what you get…
Your search for “nude pics of mandy” returned no results
:boobs:
I am on edge for part two. How do you top this one?
I would comment on this but, really, what more is there to say?
“You two are like freak magnets, I swear. How do they find you?â€
You have a gift Dave, use it wisely.
I envy you, Dave. You get to see the freaks up close and personal. Me? I just spent the afternoon watching freaks from afar at the Red Bull Flugtag here in Ottawa. It’s just not the same.
You ALWAYS have the camera at Starbucks!!! Why not at dinner for occasions just like this???? OK, perhaps even a micro cassette recorder, to hear him slur his words. Yeah an attorney would probably tell you that you can’t record a person without his knowledge, but if you don’t disclose his name, can you do it?
Oh, and these two Asian references…. Was my ‘Cake Wrecks’ link that bad? I have to say, though, growing up, I do remember some of my classmates wondering how the Asian students were able to squat-that it looked diferent than the way they did it. They thought it was from years of farming in the rice paddies-idiots! Squatting like that would soak your ass! I will have to forward that link to my family and friends.
And I really think one of the qualities white men dig about Asian women is that they think we are very submissive and live to make their lives comfortable. I massage my hubby’s feet almost every night. I scratch and/or massage his back when asked. And I’ve learned to make good Fried Rice!
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Was your link bad? Heck, no! It’s on the last post.
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Trust me. It’s way weirder. 😐
Dave – Wine tasters don’t get hammered. Idiots get hammered. I assume they were driving as well? Idiots drive when they are hammered. I hope you meant acquaintances rather than friends.
Wine tasters spit, not swallow. 😈
At least your friend didn’t drunkenly fall backwards on top of the waitress.
Never good to follow a crustacean with a crushed Asian.
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Bucket o’ fish! (Say that fast and it sounds like a rimshot)
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Great one!!!
That’s what you get for going to the East Side.
Cue East Side vs. West Side Dance Off
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It’s not the north or the south side. It’s not the east or the west side. It’s the dark side. :geek: